The Jaguar Goddess
by Eaglefire
Summary: Sarai's daughter goes to the Copper Isles and teams up with Aly's daughter and Taybur Sibigat's son. One night when they get lost in Rajmuat, Kyprioth finds them and proposes a wager which leads to the adventure of a lifetime.
1. Chapter 1: A Visit

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_**AN: About ten years after Trickster's Queen. **_

_**Zaimid Hetnim and Saraiyu Balitang have had three children: Mequen, Cyne, and Neoma. They now live on the countryside, in Tayt, Carthak, except for Zaimid, who must work in the capital. **_

_**Includes Sarai, Dove, Aly, Nawat, Taybur Sibigat, Victorcine, and others, including **_**their **_**kids. (Kyprioth is back!) Takes place in Carthak and the Copper Isles.**_

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_Excerpt:_

Inwardly, she knew that he would be killed, by Aly or Nawat or one of the guards- Their fury would be nothing to the man's Gift….

… but they were too far away to stop him before the knife fell into her breast, to stab her heart-

Her eyes locked with the killer's wild ones. She could almost believe that he could not see her, that he was in a blinding rage, except that his blade was headed towards her with deadly certainty. She wanted to close her eyes, only to find that she could not-

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_Chapter One- A Visit_

_Tayt, Carthak_

_April 20__th__ 477 H.E. _

"Ha!" Cyne laughed shortly as she tapped Mequen, her older brother, on the shoulder with her practice sword. Gasping for breath, she sat down, sweating profusely.

"No one decent falls over after defeating an opponent!" Mequen countered teasingly. Then he swept down on her and began tickling her.

Cyne squealed indignantly and edged away from his playful fingers. Ignoring her laughing protests, Mequen grabbed her and picked her up before spinning around in a wide circle. He was big and strong for a twelve-year-old; picking up his small sister of ten years was easier than beating a rug.

"Oh! Oh! Mequen! Mequen!" both laughing siblings heard a voice call sweetly. As he put Cyne down, Mequen saw Neoma, their four-year-old sister, her dark eyes staring pleadingly into his own nearly identical ones "Do that to me!" she begged. "Please- please- please-" Her voice dissolved into giggles and shrieks of delight as he complied. Smiling, Cyne backed away to watch the pair at a distance she gauged was safe. She knew from experience that it was all too easy to get knocked over by the twirling duo.

"Cyne!" The girl turned to see her harried mother, Saraiyu Hetnim of Tayt, glide towards her.

Golden-skinned and raven-haired, the noblewoman had been a spectacular beauty in her day. Now, her beauty and motherhood had transformed her into a regal, formidable figure in Emperor Kaddar's Court when she was forced to appear. She was a sharp, intelligent woman who despised court with all of her heart and soul. She preferred Tayt and the parties and balls in the surrounding fiefs, though occasionally even those went wrong when she shocked the older women with sharp opinions against the traditionally accepted restrictions forced upon Carthaki noblewomen.

In this, Cyne both agreed and disagreed. Tayt was a lush, pleasant oasis of life, while the city of Jiekai, where Emperor Kaddar's court was, was hard and hot all around. But Jiekai was a world made of many people and items from Tortall, the Copper Isles, the Yamani Islands, and even some from Scanra. Cyne loved the bazaars, open at all hours, the palace, the people... She found it a marvel that in only about twenty years or so, Jiekai had been brought from its humble status as a wealthy port to the capital of Carthak. She curtsied neatly to her mother, who laughed.

"How was your ride?" she asked softly.

"Oh," her mother replied. "Just fine, fine enough." She waved a hand dismissively. "Your father was busy, though." She sighed. "I suppose you have just finished your lessons with Mequen?" Cyne muttered an assent. "Good." Her mother seemed distracted; her eyes roved around the courtyard, almost as quickly as Mequen spun Neoma.

"Mother?" Cyne asked quietly. Her father, Zaimid Hethim, personal healer to the king, had often teased both Sarai and Cyne, declaring that they were complete opposites. It was true; though their coloring was similar, Lady Sarai was tall, with dark eyes as deep as her other two children's. Cyne did not even know where she had gotten her eyes from. _Hers _were a deep blue-green, the color of the sea. In a world of eyes that were black and brown, she stood out. Perhaps that was why she liked Jiekai; no one paid her even the attention they gave to a passing donkey cart.

"Hmm?"

"Is something the matter?" The girl had not expected her mother's reaction; the woman snorted.

"You are far too much like Dove," she said, lips twisted wryly.

Cyne perked up; she liked hearing about her aunt, the young queen of the Copper Isles. She did not know the entire story, but she knew that the raka, the native people conquered by the white-skinned luarin, had wanted to overthrow their cruel rulers and set her mother up as queen.

There had been a prophecy that a half-blooded raka with royal luarin blood would become queen. Lord Mequen, the father of Sarai and Dove, had been a distant member of the luarin royal family and had taken a raka bride who, incidentally, belonged to the old raka royal line. But Sarai had run away with Zaimid, who had been visiting the Copper Isles, and Dove had become the queen of the Isles when the raka finally won their war. Cyne had always loved the idea that her mother had passed up on a chance to become queen because she loved Zaimid. She wondered if she could ever love anyone that much. She doubted it; even at her young age, she could tell her mother was hot-headed and impulsive, more like Cyne's brother than Cyne herself.

Cyne was more like her father in more than one respect; not only was she more patient than the rest of her family, but she had inherited a strong healing Gift. When her father came home from the palace, he would teach her small magics. Cyne took in the exercises as eagerly as a cat would lap up cream, and would always beg for more, even when her magical ability had been exhausted for the day.

"Am I really like Aunt Dove? That much?" she asked her mother eagerly. The lady sighed, smoothing her elaborate gown.

"Yes." She looked somewhere off in the distance. Cyne followed her gaze to the sky above them; she doubted her mother was seeing the beautiful clouds lazily drifting across the azure above them. More likely her was thinking of her sister; she had not seen Dove since she left with Zaimid. She had meant to; it just had not worked out as they had expected. "She could always tell when something was wrong." The girl frowned.

"What-"

"Your father wants you in Jiekai," Lady Sarai said, still not looking at her daughter. A delighted smile crossed Cyne's face. What could possibly be bothering her mother about that? "He wants- to talk." The last two words left her mouth reluctantly. Those darkly mentioned words dampened Cyne's excitement.

"About what?" she asked warily.

"Ah… Kiathi will go with you," her mother replied, walking away to Mequen and Neoma; the two had finally stopped whipping around like a pesky dust storm. "I have already ordered them to pack your belongings. I will see you- possibly- soon. You are to leave immediately."

She left her daughter staring after her as she went to pick up Neoma, a wide smile on her face. Feeling put-out, Cyne watched for a long moment. Her mother should not have simply wandered off after telling her to go several leagues to her father in the capital!

Then Cyne turned her back on the happy trio and disappeared inside, swearing she would not have children until she deemed herself to be a worthy enough mother for them.

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_Two months earlier _

Sarai pounded her fist on the table as she glared at her calm husband, who ran a hand through his hair wearily. He had _known_ that his wife was not going to take this calmly. He knew he had to argue with conviction, which was hard for him; he was just as reluctant as she was.

"You know as well as I do; she must go to court," he answered with renewed vigor. And if you will not-"

"I will never stay in such a vile place, and neither will I allow my daughter to be subject to their scorn and lies!" the woman snapped. A wandering servant stuck his head in the door curiously, but made a hasty retreat. It was not a good idea to be anywhere near an angry Lady Sarai Hetnim; she had been known to propel flying missiles across the room when provoked.

"Sarai," Zaimid said gently, crossing the space between them and putting a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off, but when he persistently pulled her into an embrace, she did not move away. "You know as well as I do that we _cannot _provide for a young lady. We cannot raise her to be a proper Carthaki lady."

"A governess-"

"But we cannot give her any sort of advancement…." He hesitated; he already knew the answer to the question he was about to propose. "Unless you want her to be just another noblewoman, married-"

"What would you suggest?" she asked, voice raw. She was tired, tired of having to deal with such troubles. She would rather just mount up on her horse and ride.

But she and Zaimid could not run now.

"She needs to be taught. At a mage school. In the capital-"

"Oh, damn the capital!" Sarai cried. "I loathe it! And she would surely be trapped in the midst of-"

"We can protect her."

"Not from all of the-" Zaimid sighed tiredly; both of them loved Cyne, and he knew that the scenario he was about to propose would be harder on them all, even if it was the best option for their daughter. But if Sarai hated Jiekai and the emperor's court so much- He cleared his throat. "I have been thinking, dearest. I have a plan, and I think you would prefer it to this…."

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_Jiekai, Carthak._

_May 16, 477 H.E. _

Cyne scowled; she _certainly _preferred the breeches she sparred with her brother with, not these cumbersome skirts. They were itchy, and hot, even if they were made of light silk.

She looked pretty, though. Glancing in the mirror, the girl saw that the periwinkle fabric, which fashionably flared out in ruffles at the shortened sleeves and bottom hem, made her eyes appear a fascinating color; a mix of blue, green, and even a tinge of a pale violet….

"Admiring yourself?" Taken by surprise, the reddening Cyne jerked herself away from her reflection to meet her father's kind, twinkling eyes.

Zaimid Hetnim was a tall, handsome man, who dressed more plainly than most Carthaki nobles. Gossips spitefully whispered that he simply did not have the money, or thought himself above adornment. In truth, the latter speculation was quite near to the truth; he despised spending so much time and effort on his attire. He scarcely had enough hours in the day in the first place, without using precious minutes putting on elaborate robes and jewelry that would only hinder him. The only adornment he insisted he wear was a chain supporting a large black opal- a magical stone- embedded into a simple, copper medallion. But Cyne did not notice this. She was delighted to see him, and gave him a brilliant smile.

"Papa!" she cried, throwing herself into his outstretched arms. Zaimid Hetnim pulled his daughter to his chest tightly. He was very glad to see her; he had not seen any of his family in two months and, even then, it had not been on the best of terms. His parting with Sarai had been colder than the air in the warm, southern Carthaki February.

"You just wait until you're a young lady," he chuckled, standing back a little to admire her growing beauty. "You'll thank Mequen for those lessons; you'll have to beat hordes of eager young men off with a stick." Cyne joined in his jovial laughter, smiling as widely as she could. She had missed him; she had missed his smiles, his jokes, his easygoing manner... and she had missed the lessons for her Gift.

Cyne had arrived a few days before, but urgent business at the University had kept Lord Hetnim busy. One of the teachers had decided that the dry season would be an excellent time to begin instructing novices on intricate fire spells. Needless to say, no one was very happy with the man, and no one less so than Zaimid. Still, in a way, he had been grateful. Now that his beautiful girl was in front of him, eager blue eyes gleaming, he was beset with uncertainty as to the wisdom of his plan.

But there was nothing that he could do about it.

"What did you have to tell me?" Cyne asked. Crone's teeth, it was as if she could read his mind!

"Um," he paused. "Why don't we have dinner first? We'll talk later. In my study." Then, to distract her, he launched into an amusing anecdote about a prank played on one of the professors involving some of the dinosaur bones in the university. Quite a few years ago now, a young woman had come to Carthak, before the destruction of the old palace and capital. In fact, she had been the wreaker of the destruction; somehow, she managed to wake the dead creatures and convince them to find the corrupt emperor Ozorne. Anyway, this one particular professor had been there as a novice when she had come through with her herd of extinct animals.

And when the novices spelled the bones to move in front of the man….

Well, even the most mischievous youths felt guilty later.

Cyne laughed and commented at appropriate moments, but she was acutely aware of what her father had done: the timeless tactic of changing the topic. It made her nervous. What in _Chaos _could her father have to say that made him almost _skittish? _The thought was not a welcome one.

_Maybe it's nothing…. _But even as Cyne managed to convince herself that everything was alright, an image of her mother popped up in her mind, jaw set, eyes looking determinedly in the other direction.

Dinner was nothing but the finest. In the street bazaars of Jiekai, they could afford the absolute best. Steaming fruits, syrups, flat bread, roasted meat-

Having had nothing but dry meat and tasteless bread for the majority of her trip, Cyne dug in ravenously. At one point, she noticed that she had eaten nearly twice as much as her father. She smiled.

Zaimid spoke for most of the evening, not leaving her bored for a moment. He told her everything, about everyone. Even the minute details that might bore another child. He knew she loved them. Her wide eyes stared up at him, eagerly drinking in everything he said.

Her attention was even greater- if that was even possible- when he spoke of the Gift. But most of all, Cyne loved to simply _know. _It could be something as simple as the disappearance of a barrel, or a problem at the university. And she asked so many _questions_.

She was shy, modest in the face of others. But when the two of them were alone, she could talk his ears off, the little magpie. He was proud of her; with her curiosity, she would do splendidly in whatever she tackled, if she trusted her teachers enough.

Except perhaps being a proper noblewoman. Zaimid winced at the thought of it, her bright eyes watching a tutor telling her young ladies were seen, not heard. He had never understood that rule himself.

He knew she would be better off in Tortall, or another land without slavery, or unfair laws against women. Sarai could barely handle it, and she spent most of her time in the country. Zaimid had a feeling Cyne would always prefer the city, with all sorts of things going on at once. So much to see and to learn.

But not this city. There would be talk within hours, of the Emperor's Healer's daughter, running about like a tramp. He could already hear the disapproving voices of the court matrons.

_What had her mother been thinking? …poor lass, such a shame, such beauty, and wasted on a wild urchin…. Well, her mother _was _of the Copper Isles, hot-blooded and just the most disagreeable- _He ground his teeth.

"Can you tell me now? Here?" Her voice startled him out of his reverie; he had not even noticed that he had stopped talking.

"Um… certainly," he replied, fiddling with a single ring on his finger. He usually wore as little jewelry as he could get away with in his position as cousin to the Emperor; tonight he had one ring on his hand and a ruby eardrop in his left ear. Then, bracing himself, he looked into her beautiful eyes.

He knew that whatever Sarai had told Cyne, it had not been comforting. His wife was tactless. He loved Sarai deeply for her spirit and goodness, but he was not sure that she and Cyne could understand each other. Yet. Cyne needed a father, a parent who could look her in the eye and make her _know _that she was loved and precious.

"Cyne," he said softly. Then he stood and, not taking his gaze away from hers, skirted the edge of the table and knelt down seriously beside the girl's chair. "I wanted you to work at the university." He saw her eyes shine with excitement for a moment, then regretted starting this way. _Now she'll certainly be disappointed…. _"Well, for a year, perhaps. My plan was to have you go back and forth between here and the Court." He sighed heavily. "But your mother refused to subject you to the gossip and insults of that place alone. I would not be there, nor could I help you all the time, even if I was present. So-" He took her small, fragile hands and held them tenderly in his own large palms. "-you will work for me. For six months. In the university." He saw the eagerness in the way she straightened up in her chair. Then she paused.

"And then what?" He caught himself glancing away from her as he exhaled slowly; he made himself look deliberately into her eyes.

"Then you will go to the Court of the Copper Isles," he said quietly. He saw the shock enter her; both of them stiffened as she stared incredulously at him. "Your Aunt Dove will be your protector, her chief mage Ysul your teacher. She has- people- around her that Sarai- and I- trust immensely to keep you completely safe. Then you will be able to return- when it is deemed suitable." A small frown crossed her face, and Zaimid fought fiercely the impulse to turn away.

"Deemed… suitable?"

"When you want to come back," he amended hastily, searching her face for an acceptance. Or refusal. She would also be a great player of chance games when she grew older, if she remained able to keep her face this emotionless.…

Suddenly, a bright smile crossed her face, and she laughed.

"Really?" Relief coursed through him; she did not think they were pushing her away.

"Yes," he laughed. "I will miss you like the Goddess misses her Cat when he leaves her, but I believe that this if something you should do. I believe it is the best plan that we could take." Then he lifted his eyebrows at her. "We start your work tomorrow?" Giggling, Cyne threw her arms around his neck. Unbalanced, he tipped over, falling to the ground. The look of surprise on his face was enough to send Cyne in another fit of laughter. Then a tumult of chuckles spilled from his own lips, and they lay on the floor, Cyne sitting regally on top of her father and staring down at him severely until he ordered her to get up. She obeyed, but leapt back on his stomach as he began to rise. Groaning, Zaimid made a face at her that caused her to laugh even harder. He couldn't be angry with her; she was too happy.

One of the serving maids passed by and saw them sprawled on the floor. Smiling, she shrugged to herself as she wandered on.

"I always knew nobles had t' be mad," she confided to the tapestries lining the hallway that led back towards the kitchens. "I don't think they can be noble if they ain't."

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_AN: Well? How was it? This is my first fanfic, and I hope it's going to turn out well. Reviews, please? I would appreciate them a lot, and it gets more exciting (which is what I am hoping my prologue showed you). I just need to lay groundwork first. _


	2. Chapter 2: Secrets and Spells

_AN: I forgot a disclaimer last time. Well, be informed that I am simply releasing several of my own into the world of Tamora Pierce and hoping that they don't get lost. Or destroy anything. Much. (after all, if there was no destruction, there would be no fun, hmm?)_

_My thanks to **Lady Muck **and **KyrieofAccender**, my betas. I also thank **fairydust000**, **Cry of the Wolf Child**, **Pie of Doomeh**, and **Ginastar**. Not only did you leave nice, supportive reviews, but there were informative/detailed, if you know what I mean! Thank you very much! I hope this is a good second chapter! (I've been told so, but I'll leave that up to you)_

I love you all, but I love you more when I'm left **_REVIEWS!!!_**

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_Chapter Two_

_Spells and Secrets_

_Jiekai, Carthak_

_June 7__th__, 476 H. E. _

Cyne hurried through the Mage's Hall as fast as she could, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Still, she felt gazes fall upon her.

She was the youngest resident of the University. Well, she was not _exactly _a resident; both she and her father left at the end of the day to go back to the grand house directly between the University and the Court that her father resided in during his stays in Jiekai. She still had not made an appearance at the palace; inwardly, she was grateful. The huge gates she passed on the way to the Temples seemed foreboding to her small self, like jaws that could swallow her whole if they decided she was worth the effort.

Finally, Cyne could understand why her mother was so vehemently against Court. She had seen girls her own age and younger passing through those gates, burdened in heavy clothes and jewels larger than their small hands. The ones leaving seemed relieved. The ones going in- not so much.

But the city- the _real _city, not the stuffy streets that the wealthy lived in and jealously guarded against peddlers and beggars-

It was _magnificent. _So many people, animals, artifacts; everyone talking, laughing, shouting all at once- Her father would not let her go alone, but she always managed to convince whoever her escort was to let her stay a little longer than planned. It was not hard; her usual protector, her father's senior novice, Uimior, loved the warm morning breads of Mistress Gouch as much as Cyne did. The young man also escorted her throughout the university. Cyne appreciated it; she had always managed to hide in his shadow. When that did not work, she drew him into animated conversation so she would forget the appraising gazes from those around her.

But Uimior was busy this morning, so there was no one to talk to in order to distract herself from the open stares she was given. Zaimid trusted her to be alone in the school; all the men and women knew who she was. But it made her uncomfortable, to know that there were so many eyes on her, making sure she was alright….

It made her feel alien. At Tayt, even the servants had not blinked when the girl had wandered into the kitchens. Now, everyone's gaze lingered.

When she had first came, a few weeks ago, there had been surprise in any face she dared to look up at. She knew why; her eyes unnerved folk. She could not understand why; just because they were an unusual color did not mean they had to go about staring at her slack jawed like a fisherman's catch.

She was headed to her father's office. She had just delivered a letter to Lord Something-Or-Other and was now _finally _going to have a lesson. She had not had one in days; university business came first. She could not be annoyed with her father, but she wanted to have him to herself for a little while. Surely no one could begrudge her for that.

When she snuck in to the small room, she saw Uimior and her father talking quietly. Both started when she strode up to her.

"Aren't you the quiet little dove?" Uimior commented, grinning.

"Dove she is," Zaimid agreed, smiling at Cyne. She smiled back; there was a double meaning in his concurrence. "Sit down. I want to try something with my novice, here." He gestured to the cluster of chairs around them. Obediently resting herself on one of the cushioned seats, Cyne looked curiously at Uimior.

"What-"

"Hold your hands out," her father instructed, business-like. He was beginning to become accustomed with acting as her instructor as well as her father; the instructor was strict and had no tolerance for fooling about, while the father was the one who would slip into her room in the morning and leap onto her bed and tickle her furiously to wake her up.

The girl obeyed, placing her hands in front of her. "Find your center of power, from where you can instruct and use your magic. Uimior?" As she closed her eyes, she felt the young man take her hands.

"What is he going to do?" she asked. She heard her father shift and waited patiently for him to answer.

"Um…," Zaimid murmured, voice pleasantly easy. "Uimior has a talent for… sensing Gifts. I have been wondering- about your Gift, I mean."

"What about it?" she chirped.

"Shouldn't you call up your power now?" Zaimid asked mildly, but Cyne was only more intrigued by his vagueness.

"What? I won't be able to concentrate until I know," she warned sweetly. Smiling, she heard her father sigh.

"Just- about your skills. Whether war or healing is your strength, if you can spell lanterns- that sort of thing."

"Oh." She thought for a moment. "All right, then." Then she focused, brow furrowing in concentration.

Her father had said she would have to find her own technique for finding her Gift- the source of her power- inside of her. Until then, her Gift was elusive, slippery- there one moment and gone the next. It took several minutes for Cyne to find it. Then several more to harness it.

Finally, the girl managed to clutch her power and hold it. It danced in her grasp, trying to slip away and playfully taunt her again. Screwing up her face, she tightly weaved her will around it, forcing it down.

"Now bring it out. Don't do anything, don't think about doing a spell, mind you- just bring it out," she heard her father say, somewhere in the distance. Obeying the order was hard; control was difficult for her. It felt like trying to stop a wave from crashing on the shore, trying to pull it back into the ocean. Slowly she coaxed it towards the surface of her mind, cajoling it-

It slipped away as someone gasped. Uimior's hands jerked away from hers. As she opened her eyes, concentration broken, a confused frown on her face, she saw that the young man was breathing hard, eyes tense. This close, she could see sweat gleaming on his face.

"Are you-" Uimior recoiled when she reached out to him. Hurt, she looked up at her father. His dark eyes were serious as he surveyed his pupil's shaking form.

"Cyne," he said, voice odd. "I left some papers in the Study Hall, I think. Go and get them. Now, please." Silently, she slid off the chair, trying to ignore the nasty feeling welling up inside of her. Something was off, wrong- she had seen the way Uimior had acted. Right outside the door, she stopped to listen.

"Master Hetnim, sir- Goddess keep me by her side and Mithros-"

"None of that," Zaimid ordered crossly. "What is it?"

"She- she isn't what she seems." The boy gasped for breath. "You- you thought-"

"Wait," her father interrupted sternly. "_Nian fe lyinnee._" Cyne scowled with dismay as she recognized the incantation for sealing a room. She could eavesdrop all she liked; she would not hear a single voice now. Reluctantly, she headed back towards the Study Hall, where teachers and students alike could once again gape at her small figure among many robed, official people.

There was not a single paper in the hall.

* * *

"Papa?" 

She watched as her father, obviously preoccupied, stirred from his position of gazing vacantly at his plate of food. She swallowed nervously.

"Yes, dear?" His voice sounded strained. Cyne looked away.

"Umm…. Nothing." Five more minutes of silence slipped away into oblivion. "Papa?"

"Yes?" Once again, he seemed as though he had been woken from a deep slumber. This time, Cyne made herself voice the words.

"Why- why was Uimior-"

"-the way he was?" her father finished, a crooked smile sliding across his lips. "He's quite easy to alarm, m'dear. Never play a prank on him. He'd hold it against you forever." Cyne frowned.

"Did I play a joke? I didn't mean to," she said, puzzled and worried.

"No, no," Zaimid said with a chuckle that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then he stared at her intently. "Cyne?"

"Hmm?"

"Could- could you move that?" he asked, pointing to the candlestick in the center of the table. His daughter looked at it for a moment, then at him.

"Maybe," she told him, suspicious of what he was getting at.

"Would you try?"

"How?"

"What do you mean, how?" Cyne felt foolish, instantly wondering if she should know.

"What incantation, what do I need to know to…," her voice trailed off as his solemn, dark eyes looked into hers.

"No need," he said quietly.

"Why-"

"Just try it," he ordered, voice harsher than usual. Puzzled, Cyne stared at it, then began to call up her Gift. "Ask."

"Ask?" she repeated, not quite understanding. One needed knowledge of the particular sort of spell that was about to be performed, in order to use a Gift- One could not just _ask-_

Well, some could get away without using incantations. A powerful few could manipulate their Gifts without a precise spell that they had learned before. But, for most, lessons and practice were in order- as well as the knowledge of how the spell worked and how to use the Gift to bring about the intended recult. And certainly anyone at such a young age would need to go through the formal ritual to keep his or her Gift under control. Otherwise, a spell could go awry very quickly.

"Ask. Look at it and ask your Gift to move it." Still bewildered, Cyne shifted her vision from her father to the candlestick.

"Move?" she said, gazing at it. Her eyes began to burn as she grasped her magic and began to call it up to the surface. "Could you-"

Then a flash of fire rushed through her veins, an ocean of blue-green flame that consumed her senses. Through the chaos that nearly blinded her, she saw- slowly, in bits and pieces- the candle fall to the table and ignite the tablecloth.

Her father hastily spoke a few words, and the fire disappeared. Trembling, Cyne watched as a slow smile played across his lips, one thought dominating all others in her mind.

"Why?" she managed, throat dry. Zaimid Hetnim looked up at her.

"What?"

"Why didn't you give me an incantation?" she asked, eyes beginning to tear. She blinked furiously.

"Because," her father replied slowly, eyes falling back to the table, where a scorch stain revealed the wooden table underneath the white fabric. "-you are special." Cyne frowned, but, before she could ask, her father continued. "Cyne, I want you to keep this quiet. Your Gift. I don't want you to tell anyone."

"People already know I have the Gift," she croaked.

"No, I mean… I mean doing the spells without… help. Without incantations." He surveyed her carefully. "Will you promise?" Wordlessly, she nodded. "Promise me."

"I promise," she answered softly.

"Good. Now drink." As she reached out for her goblet, her eyes fell to the table, and the scorch mark there.

She wondered if her father would fix it, or if he would leave it there, even after she was long gone.

* * *

_AN: Well? I'm not sure where I'm going, exactly... With this bit, I mean. I know the plot for this, kinda sketchy, but I DO know it._

_Maybe I'll do a sequel... I'd like to do a Tortall, and then one w/ my Copper Isles group AND my Tortall group. And I already have the plot for the CI & T one... It's rather interesting, and I must thank my friends for it. _

_I love **reviews**, by the way. **Reviews** are very nice things, you know. They inspire a person to post chapters up again, and again... and so on. _

_Thanks again to all those who reviewed!_


	3. Chapter 3: Arrivals, Assassins, and A

_Disclaimer: If I were Tamora Pierce and owned all that wonderful stuff, I would not be here! I'd be finishing up the 2nd book in the Beka Cooper series! Darnit, I can't wait until- what is it? September? Write faster, Tammy! Actually, don't; it'll take away from the quality (sigh) I guess I'll just have to wait..._

_Thanks to my betas, again. I love you guys. In the words of Kel, in Lady Knight (substitute clerks for betas) "I love clerks (betas). I'd marry them all if I could."_

_And thanks yous to **C.T. Eleczko**, **Ginastar**, **Cry of the Wolf Child**, and **fairydust000**. Yes, I'm am thanking you guys again, and I know that part in chapter 2 about the incantations was a little off. I did attempt to fix it. If you guys could re read that part (where Cyne talks to her dad at the end of the chapter) and tell me if it's better, that would be great. _

_I'm going away (to the beach! Yay! I LOVE the beach!) for the week, so this is all until at least the Sunday/Monday after next. _

So you all have PLENTY of time to write REVIEWS!!

* * *

_Chapter Three_

_Arrivals, Assassins, and Awkward Introductions_

_Rajmuat Harbor, Copper Isles_

_January 6__th__, 477 H.E. _

Crows flew overhead, cawing raucously, when the ship entered Rajmuat Harbor. As a wide grin spread across her reckless face, Cyne lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes to savor the warmth running across her face.

Her thick raven hair gleamed in the bright light, like luxurious satin worthy of a queen. Usually, for practicality, she braided it or wound it around her head, but, today, Cyne had worn it loose, and it tumbled down her back in waves, playing with the gentle sea breeze.

To her delight when she had boarded a month earlier, most of the crew had had the same black hair and golden skin she had. They were like _her. _And she was going to her mother's homeland. To see an aunt who had fought for a throne.

She gasped when a gull swept right over her head. She ducked, hands over her head.

"They don't bite," Kiathi, her maid, commented as she joined her mistress near the ship's prow. She was dark skinned, like most in Carthak, and wore a tan servant's dress that fell to her ankles. The tall young woman leaned against the ship's railing casually.

"I know," Cyne replied, annoyed. "I'm more worried about what they might be dropping on my head." Kiathi could not smother her smile as she looked down benevolently at the short girl.

"Ah, but it's supposed to be good luck, ma'am."

"That's quite fine," the eleven-year-old replied stiffly. "I don't need _that _much good luck."

They watched quietly as they drew nearer and nearer to shore. Then Cyne frowned, squinting in the bright sunlight as it reflected harshly off the water.

"Are those people waiting for _us_?" Kiathi looked in the direction her mistress pointed.

"Well, you are the niece of the queen here," she murmured. Cyne groaned.

"I _hate _attention," she mumbled.

"Well, you got it," her maid replied unsympathetically. "A guard of honor, it seems-"

"Spare me," she muttered, turning away and walking towards the other end of the boat. "I'll just say goodbye to the sea instead of contemplating my upcoming humiliation." Kiathi followed her.

"I don't see what's so wrong," she drawled. Cyne gritted her teeth.

"You know well enough what's wrong," she said loudly. "I don't like attention."

"That's sommat, you being Saraiyu Hetnim's daughter," was the answer.

"I know." She glared out at the horizon. "I'm my father's daughter."

"Hmm." Kiathi moved away. "I'd best get your things together, miss." Cyne listened as her maid walked away, then sighed. They were leaving the open sea much swifter than she had expected. Soon enough, she would be in the Copper Isles, a land that she had never known except in stories of deeds from before she was born.

* * *

"Lady Cyne Temaida Balitang Hetnim?" A bored looking woman stepped forwards and nodded, obviously knowing who the girl was. 

Still wobbly from her sea-legs, Cyne eyed her nervously. Though her reddish-blond hair was cropped short and her skin was fair, the woman seemed comfortable in the native style of the raka nobility, with a sarong and sash that were elegantly decorated and one pearl eardrop in her ear. One thing bothered the girl, however; she was sure most nobles- even the Kyprish- did not wear flowing breeches underneath their sarongs.

Besides, she did not wear much jewelry, which was one of the few things Carthaki nobles and the Kyprish had in common. The only other piece of gold Cyne noted was a ring with a black stone on the woman's index finger. "I am Lady Alianne Crow of Huian." Fleetingly, a thought came to her front of Cyne's mind; this woman was not a usual member of a greeting party. As if she would rather not look at the girl, the lady's eyes connected with Cyne's blue-green eyes for the smallest moment before flicking about to catalog everything going on around them. The port was busy, but not this particular pier; no one except their escort stood near.

"Pleased… to meet you," Cyne replied nervously, trying to pull off an awkward curtsy. She fidgeted; she was very hot. At sea, she had been able to wear several layers comfortably. Now, even though it was nearly sunset, she looked at the loose clothing Lady Alianne wore enviously.

Suddenly, the woman looked directly at her. A small smile crossed her face.

"As I am to meet you," she replied gently, nodding. "You do not need to go through formalities with me; I am certain I would be _and_ feel as foolish as you would." Relief filled Cyne, and she smiled tentatively. She might get to like this woman…. "I- am close to your aunt," she continued, a wry smile playing across her wide mouth. "She and I are good friends. And I knew your mother well, too." Something twitched in Lady Alianne's face for a slight moment, then her crooked smile grew a little wider. "Sarai got me into a bit of trouble when she decided to go off with your father." Cyne frowned, trying to recall the name of her step-grandmother.

"I'm sure- Winnamine could not have been so angry with you," she replied, trying to place the young woman standing before her. She must have been part of the rebellion, since she had known Sarai; she looked to be in her late twenties, perhaps early thirties. The dryness in the lady's smile seemed to increase as Cyne spoke.

"Oh," she answered ruefully. "It was someone far more... excitable... than her." Then she winced. "And _he_ held me directly responsible. Mayhap D- Her Majesty- will tell you about it." Then a sudden grin crossed her face. "Actually, in retrospect, it is a rather amusing story." Then she jerked her head towards the waiting horses. "The chestnut one is yours, Cyne." For a long moment, the girl stayed where she was. "I hate to rush you and all, but the day won't be getting any younger." The noblewoman glanced around hastily. "-and trouble comes to those that wait." Cyne frowned; _that_ wasn't the variation of thesaying she was accustomed to.

"I thought good things came-" Cyne stopped, watching Lady Alianne, who rolled her eyes.

"Maybe in other lands," she said. Another crooked smile slid across her lips. "-but now you're in the land of the Trickster. He doesn't like things to go the way they do in other kingdoms. The sooner you learn that, the better off you will be." Looking up at the sky, she scowled. "And, as I speak, the clouds come in. Crone take my tongue for jinxing us!" Swiftly, the noblewoman pulled herself into the saddle. She rode like a man; that explained the breeches. For a moment, Cyne fervently wished she had been wearing pants as well. She despised side-saddle.

"What do clouds have to-"

"Darkness near to sunset, limited visibility, more trouble," the woman replied. "Mount up. Your belongings can follow later. I'm here to get you, not any trunk, to the palace." Her quick eyes scanned the area as Cyne pulled herself up onto the mount. "I assume you ride well, being Sarai's daughter?" Silently, she nodded. That was perhaps one of the only things she had inherited from her mother. "Good. We will ride swiftly." She looked at the stern-faced soldiers around them. To Cyne's surprise, there were men and women. In Carthak, women were not allowed anywhere near weapons, let alone in the ranks of soldiers. And breeches were out of the question, though Cyne and her mother had worn them at Tayt. "My people are there, but no putting any guard down! I don't like slackers. Anywhere. Neither does Sibigat." Whoever _he _was, Cyne assumed he was important. The men began glancing around nervously. "But you don't need to act like it's your funeral," Alianne continued, voice cheerier.

"With you, you never know, _Duani_," someone- a man- muttered. Looking around, Cyne frowned. She had learned the language of the raka since she was very little. _Duani _meant "boss lady." She looked again at Lady Alianne. She hadn't seemed so important-

"Alright, let's go," she ordered briskly. "Shields up, weapons at hand-" She grinned at Cyne, hazel eyes glinting with a mischievous humor that Cyne had thought no adult could have. "-and don't skewer the cargo."

"Don't make her so nervous, m'lady," another voice commented. This one was female. "You must have her thinking there's riots and assassins 'round every corner with all this protection." Cyne found the speaker: a dark-haired luarin. The brunette winked at the girl.

"My job is getting her to Dove in one piece," the noblewoman retorted tersely. "If that means overdoing my job, so be it. The easiest time for any enemy to try anything-"

"-is before proper security is set up," several people muttered in unison with her. "We know." The girl nearly laughed; they sounded like scolded schoolchildren.

"Right, then," the woman replied, eyes flickering to Cyne. "Ride!"

The trip through the crowded streets was uneventful. Rajmuat was a mix of old and new; mostly new, Cyne noted. White and pink stucco homes and buildings made up the majority of the city, though there were some wood and stone buildings scattered between. There were many people in the streets, but the ones that gathered around their quick-moving procession were mostly golden skinned and dark-haired. Raka.

Many people called things Cyne could not understand in swift voices; she saw many of them pointing at her. She also saw Lady Alianne get edgier, and edgier-

About seven blocks in, they met up with another group of mounted riders. With fascination, Cyne saw that most of the new riders had a crow sitting on his or her shoulder solemnly. Wordlessly, they fell in around the guards surrounding her and the noblewoman. A light rain began to fall, successfully penetrating Cyne's several layers and making her chilly even in the otherwise very warm city.

Intrigued despite her shivering, the girl continued to take in her surroundings… until they came into view of the palace. The ground, which had been slanting upwards throughout their ride, leveled out into huge grounds that were lovely even in the darkening light. Streams wound their way in front of the palace walls. Now, Cyne could see the main gate, behind a wide river, closed shut with a firmness that seemed to caution anyone of entering with evil intentions. On top of the high battlements, men patrolled back and forth. If she squinted, the girl could just make out dark, wooden crossbows in their hands. The small metal plates sewed into their leather jerkins gleamed. As they crossed the bridge, the horses' hooves clattering loudly, a loud voice yelled from the top.

"Identify yourselves!" Hearing a derisive snort, Cyne turned to see Lady Alianne glaring up.

"Open the dratted door already!" she bellowed, eyes narrowed. "I'm wet!" As the gate ahead of them opened, she muttered something underneath her breath about pompous, self-important soldiers.

As they filed in, the rain increased, pounding heavily against the courtyard stones. Immediately, Lady Alianne dismounted and, turning to Cyne, gestured her to do the same. Several boys dashed towards them and began taking the reins of the horses. Cautiously, Cyne slid off of her horse, trying to make sure her skirts did not ride up as she jumped. She had no intentions of entertaining the stable hands. Then she looked around, lost in the flurry of action around her. She could not see faces she knew, either the lady or the brunette who had winked at her or any guard who had been near her on the ride to the palace-

"Lady Alianne?" she called in a very soft voice, knowing her words were swallowed by the tumult around her. Still, within a moment, the noblewoman was at her side, a small smile on her face.

"A girl could lose a small thing like you real fast," she said wryly. Then she looked up and made a face. "Goddess, Sibigat. Since when do your soldiers have a sense of humor?" Recognizing the name from earlier, Cyne looked up to see a huge, bulky man sliding from between two arguing guards.

"I hadn't realized that you thought being locked out of the palace in the rain was amusing," he fired back, brown eyes flickering to Cyne. He winked friendly at her. "Next time, we'll be sure to keep her out there longer." Then he looked back at the reddish-blond woman and lifted an eyebrow. "I know you aren't accustomed to the world of lace and glitter, but even you know when and how to make an introduction, Cunning One." The girl looked back at Lady Alianne just in time to see her roll her eyes.

"Lady Cyne Temaida Balitang Hetnim, may I present Taybur Sibigat, head of the Queen's Guard?" Despite gray streaks in his dark, curly hair, Sibigat's eyes twinkled with a youthful sparkle as he bowed to her.

"My pleasure, Lady Cyne. I have been awaiting your arrival." Cyne smiled hesitantly, unsure of what to make of him. Glancing at Alianne, Sibigat assumed a more serious expression. "Well, Aly? What do you think?" The woman gave a non-committal shrug.

"I'll leave you to form your own opinion."

"I already have."

"Then I will speak with you and Dove later-"

"Aly?" All three of them turned to see a dripping man with black hair walking towards them. He nodded at Cyne. "The nestling?"

"Nawat," Lady Alianne laughed, swatting his arm. "You saw her when you joined us in Rajmuat." The man Nawat shrugged.

"You people have such strange methods," he retorted, a crooked smile gliding across his face. "You might have given the chick to your people and taken another as a decoy. You have a strange way of thinking."

"I wanted to protect her myself," she retorted as Nawat slid between Cyne and Lady Alianne, putting an arm around her waist. She leaned into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. Then she slipped out of his arms and took a position next to the girl again. "-which means no mucking about." A sad look entered the man's eyes as he stared at the woman, but Cyne had an odd feeling that he was concealing a grin.

"I am nothing but a distraction," he said sorrowfully. "I-"

"Yes," she replied plaintively. "A very handsome one," she muttered under her breath before looking back at Sibigat, whose face had remained suspiciously blank throughout the exchange. "We'll take her to Dove now," she said, putting a hand on Cyne's shoulder and steering her towards a tunnel.

"But-" Her little courage failed her as both Sibigat and Lady Alianne turned to look at her. They _towered _over her, obviously distracted by plans they were mulling over inside their shrewd minds. She looked down at her attire, drenched and dirty from the ocean voyage. "Sir, Lady Alianne-" Feebly, she gestured at her clothes. Though she did not look, she heard one of them kneel next to her.

"Look at me, girl." It was the woman. Reluctantly, Cyne looked into the hazel eyes, prominent green flecks standing out. "I hate awkwardness," she stated clearly. A small smile played with her lips. "You already know that. I know you need to show respect, and formality, but 'Lady Alianne'-" She sighed ruefully and glanced at Sibigat. "I'm as much a lady as Nawat is an earth-dweller." A snicker escaped the man's lips.

"Less, Aly. Nawat's accustomed. You are a long shot away from accustomed."

"Earth-dweller?" Cyne asked, curiosity taking hold of her. But she fell silent when- she, whatever Cyne was supposed to call her- looked back.

"For now, call me ma'am. No 'lady'-ing me, understood?" The girl nodded wordlessly. "Good." Then Alianne groaned. "I loathe titles," she muttered.

"That's the price you pay for being good at your work," the man retorted as he gestured Cyne to step between them. She focused her gaze on the corridor ahead of them, but listened intently to the two adults. "You get important, and this is how the Trickster repays you."

"And I bet he's pleased with himself right now," she mumbled dryly. "Aren't you?"

* * *

In the Realms of the Gods, a crow flew past a pavilion, squawking loudly. A man sat up from his reclined position and frowned. His build was similar to that of a lean, muscled dancer, his salt-and-pepper beard and hair cropped shot. His coat was brightly colored, fashioned in the style of the Kyprish. His black eyes saw the black bird, then glinted with humor. 

"Well, m' good lad," he said cheerily. "My Aly is to be busy, hmm? She ought to thank me, what with all those years of boredom she's had." Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them together in vigorous expectation. Rising from his seat, the man crossed over to a basin of water standing in the middle of his pavilion. "Show me," he ordered brusquely.

Kyprioth, God of Tricksters and Patron of the Copper Isles, watched intently as Aly's glaring face materialized in the pool beneath his hands. For a moment, he was tempted to pop down there and reply to her comment. But then he shook his head, smiling.

He would be seeing her on a more regular basis again soon enough.

Or, rather, her charge would be.

The god chuckled. He remembered when Aly had been a bored, silly girl who wanted nothing more than to be a spy. And her good father- bless him!- wouldn't let her. He was too worried something might happen to her….

Dear old George had forgotten that Aly was her father's daughter. And if _George _had survived the Corus streets for twenty years… then Aly surely could have handled a few, simple jobs.

But, alas, the baron George of Pirate's Swoop, known to the spy world as the Whisperman of Tortall, had refused and forced Kyprioth to… fiddle with Aly's future. The god had dragged her into a world- a complete mess- of espionage, danger, and rebellious plots. And he knew that she did not regret it. He certainly had not. He had needed her, and she hadn't been doing anything worthwhile….

And now, once again, he would take someone from right underneath one of his chosen ones. He had done it to George; now, he would do it to Aly. Another smile played across his lips. Aly would be in a rage, just as George had been, to find Kyprioth toying with their families long after they thought he was done with them. And to see Aly in a real rage… perhaps one as strong as her mother's furies….

It would be entertaining, to say the least.

He loved a good trick.

* * *

"Ma!" All three- Aly, Sibigat, and Cyne- turned to see a redheaded girl dash towards them. She was dressed in loose, tan breeches and shirt. She had a very slight build, and darker skin than Cyne had seen on any redhead. Though it was not as dark as a Carthaki's skin, or even a raka's, it was noticeable even in the dim light of the torches lining the walls. Beaming, the girl stopped and hugged Aly. Startled, Cyne stared. Though her reunion with her father in Jiekai had been just as exuberant, she would have held herself off in front of others. 

"Merle!" the woman scolded, though she patted the girl on the head. "I thought I told you to stay with-"

"I know, I know- but Da came and said to go find you! He said Cyne was-" It was then that she locked eyes with Cyne. Smiling, she pulled away from her mother and grabbed the other girl's hand. "I'm Merle," she told the surprised Cyne. "I-"

"Damn!" The girls started to look up as they were forced down by Aly's firm hands. Falling down towards the hard stone floor, Cyne screamed as she saw a man with a sword advancing on them, all puzzlement disappearing under waves of fear.

She screamed louder when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw another two men behind them.

* * *

_So... Is it a good cliffy? _

_I hope so. **Reviews**,_ _please. They inspire such happiness inside... it really is terrible. Soon enough, I'll be addicted. _

_Can someone get high on them or, at least, drunk with happiness b/c of them? I wouldn't be surprised. _


	4. Chapter 4: Death and Magic

Disclaimer: I am not trying to take credit for creating the wonderful world of Tortall. And if I did, I would surely be beaten by adoring, loyal fans of Tamora Pierce (and my friends, who always are looking for an excuse for beat me, preferably with sporks)

I know that people are looking at this (that's what stats are for)! I have a very simple assignment to give you! (and it's even easier because it's SUMMER and there's no real homework that can't be put off until tomorrow!) There is a small, blue button at the bottom of the page... isn't it pretty? All cute and small and nice! And, as you're admiring this adorable little button, isn't the temptation to click it overwhelming? Pretty please with cheeries on top (or whatever else you like on your sundaes)?

Thank you **C.T. Eleckzo**, **fairydust000**, **Ginastar**, **Pie of Doomeh**, and, of course, **KyrieofAccender**! I'm very glad you keep on reviewing. I hope I can live up to your expectations!

Finally, Cyne is in the Isles, and I (and Kyprioth) can get to work.

* * *

_Chapter 4_

_Death and Magic_

_Rajumuat Palace, Kypriang Island_

Cyne could scarcely believe how fast the woman before her moved. Daggers suddenly in both of her hands, Aly whipped around as Sibigat drew his sword to counter the first man's strike. Leaping over the two girls, she fell into a crouch, sticking one blade in the closest man's gut before wrenching it up and out and parrying with the other attacker. Cyne closed her eyes as the blood rained down into her hair, onto her face. A wave of nausea spread through her as her stomach clenched and her heart seemed to fall a thousand leagues inside her as she opened her eyes again.

The stabbed man stared vacantly at the two frightened girls and moaned, stumbling towards them. Cyne slid away as fast as she could, her horrified eyes locked with his dull ones. Then he stopped, sides heaving heavily, and collapsed. Shocked, Cyne stared at the dead man, a small part of her mind refusing to see what was in front of her.

"Guards!" Aly roared in a voice Cyne could scarcely believe came from the slim woman. "Damn your miserable hides! Get down here!" Forcing the man's sword up, she ducked underneath his arms and stabbed him before she shoved him down. Sibigat had obviously already dealt with his man; silence prevailed through the corridor with Aly's last move. Slowly, Cyne began to rise.

"No," Aly barked, eyes flashing dangerously. Then, seeing the alarmed look in Cyne's eyes, her face softened. "It might not be safe," she warned gently. Then she shoot an icy glare at Sibigat. "Where- are- your- men?" she demanded acidly, putting emphasis on each word.

"I wish I knew," he retorted grimly. "I'd give them a whipping right now." They waited another few, long and grim seconds. Finally, Cyne heard running footsteps. Their protectors tensed, weapons raised.

Aly slid over to the corner of the passageway, body pressed up against the wall, then a soft sound that reminded Cyne of a crow's call left her lips. A moment later, a confused Cyne heard a very gentle reply. The noblewoman relaxed and nodded to her companion, who lowered his sword. A second later, Nawat came around the corner, frowning.

"Where are the hatchlings?" he asked. "The crows- they said-"

"Daddy!" With a cry, Merle forced herself to her feet and ran into him, sobbing desperately. Paralyzed by shock, Cyne watched as the girl threw herself at her father.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly. Still weeping, she nodded into his chest. Then he looked at his wife, intense concern radiating from his dark eyes.

"Fine," Aly replied darkly. "We're all fine. But I know a few guards who won't be in a couple of minutes," she added menacingly. "We could have been killed."

"Not with you here, Aly," Nawat replied, staring at her openly. She sighed wearily.

"I wish I hadn't killed them both," she said quietly, eyes narrowed. "I want to know-"

"You always do. And you will," he answered. "You always find out. Somehow."

"By asking questions of living captives," she snapped. "Not dead bodies." Then she sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair. Cyne turned to watch Sibigat as the large man knelt down by his attacker.

"This one isn't dead," he said quietly. About to lay her head on her husband's shoulder, Aly stirred, going to his side. Moving Merle gently, Nawat took his wife's place over Cyne.

"But he soon will be. And he's unconscious." Cyne heard her spit. "Crone's teeth!"

It was an oath her father used. Suddenly, Cyne wished he was there. _He _could heal the man-

She paused, thinking over what she had wished. Then, she shakily stood and walked over to the two, grim adults standing over the body. Silently, she bent down, unsure of what she was going to do.

Her stomach rolled at the sight; the man had a belly cut, a very deep one. Blood seeped over the stones around them. She did not know how he could have lost so much blood and still be alive.

Then, gingerly, the little girl put her trembling, cold hands on the man's shoulders. Instantly, another hand grabbed her arm.

"What do you think-"

"Aly," Nawat's deep voice interrupted her solemnly. "Let the hatching work." There was a long silence for a moment.

"Nawat?" the woman whispered softly. "What do you mean?" Cyne did not know what the man said in reply. In the few months since her run-in with Uimior, she had mastered her technique for summoning her Gift; imagery.

Now, she was already imagining herself in the center of an ocean.

_An ocean, _her father had said once, laughing. _Like your eyes. _

The feeling of the waves, the cool water on her toes…. She stood on the surface, feeling it move underneath her. Then she let herself sink, fall into the water. She let it fill her, cover her, protect her. She could hear nothing but the absolute silence….

She was sinking in an ocean- a well- of her Gift. It was everywhere, all around her. And it would go where she told it to. She was Its mistress….

The air around her built in tension, the blood in her fingers pulsing with her Gift.

She could feel the man dying, even in her well of power. It was dark, foul, in her mind. In her world. She could feel the blood leaving him, the life falling from his body.

_Go, _she whispered. _Please. _Her father had never told her any incantations; he had always told her to simply ask. She had always asked him why; he had said nothing after that one dinner after Uimior had tested her Gift. Except once.

That one other time, she had pestered him, and he had laughed, dark eyes lovingly watching her.

"You are special, my little bird," he had said, repeating what Cyne had already been told.

_You are special…. _

_Heal him…._ It was hard; her Gift spilled from her fingertips, uncontrollable, until the girl managed to direct it towards the man's wound. She bit her lips, very aware of the sweat dripping from her. His body- his own well- was almost within her reach…. If only she could find it- grasp it- she could help him.

When she finally made contact, the magic poured from her into him. Through their connection, Cyne could see glimpses of a turquoise flash filling him, covering the cut, rebuilding the small, slashed veins….

Then her Gift roared around her and Cyne fell into darkness.

* * *

AN: I have chapter five written out, but I don't know if I am going to post it until next Friday or not. This and the next chapter are rather short, so maybe I'll post the next chapter on Monday... then again, maybe not... 


	5. Chapter 5: Heir

_Disclaimer: Yes, I wrote a fanfic. No, I didn't create Tortall. Yes, I wrote up some characters and put them in Tamora Pierce's land. No, I am not trying to market it or take credit of it or anything. Yes, this is strictly for entertainment purposes for me and anyone who wants to read it on this website. No, I'm actually not putting my characters in Tortall but in the Copper Isles, which I didn't create, either. Yes, Mommy, I will do the dishes after I finish up here. _

_Thanks to **Ginastar**, **Lioness Queen**, **fairydust000**, and **Darking Girl **for reviews. And thank yous to **Lady Muck **and **KyrieofAccender**, my betas! You guys all rock!_

* * *

_Chapter Five_

_Heir_

There was a light, a strong one….

But it rippled, and there seemed to be something there, between Cyne and it. As the barrier between her and the light pulsed, she realized what it was: water. She was underwater.

But she did not feel as though she was drowning; quite the contrary. She felt like she could finally breathe- finally see- the way she was meant to.

She looked around, but all she could see was the blue water.

Then someone came towards her, floating in the water; someone with a glittering blue sparkle surrounding them. As she watched, she saw something materialize behind the figure, a small, dark splotch that grew as she watched. Then she realized it was something swimming furiously towards them….

Then the darkness whipped past the other figure, and the blue sparkle was lost in the cloud of blackness as it swept down on her.

And suddenly, Cyne was fighting for her life, struggling through the black water. She opened her mouth to scream; it poured in to choke her, into her mouth and down her throat.

"Cyne!"

She opened her eyes to see a young woman peering down worriedly at her. Her black eyes, set in a catlike face, surveyed the girl carefully. A groan escaped Cyne before her bright eyes closed again and she fell back onto the pillows.

There were pillows.

She opened her eyes again.

She was in a large room with dark-wood furnishings. The huge bed she lay in had lacy white blankets and curtains, while a dressing screen- Yamani style, she decided- stood in the corner of the room.

"Is this- my room?" she asked weakly, turning to the woman sitting next to her. The woman was clad in a simple, honey-colored gown. The gown of a lady's maid.

"Yes," she replied, watching Cyne very carefully.

"It's very pretty," the raven-haired girl said, not knowing what else to say. "Did Lady Alianne bring me in?"

"Ah…," the woman hesitated. "Yes. Aly did. She… told me about the excitement in the lower floors."

"Oh." Then, after rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Cyne looked at the woman again, and a thought struck her.

The woman had the same dark hair and full lips of her mother. Certainly, the dark hair was common in the Isles, but there was something about it- perhaps the shiny, evident softness- that made it seem familiar.

"Are-" Cyne paused, not certain on how to phrase such an awkward question. "Are you my aunt?" The corners of the woman's eyes crinkled, and a small smile came to her lips.

"Yes," she answered simply. Cyne's shyness and natural curiosity fought a swift battle; the curiosity won. It usually did not, but Cyne had heard so much about her aunt Dovasary that she was not as strange as she might have otherwise been.

"You aren't dressed like a queen," she commented. Dove laughed.

"No, I'm not, am I?" Cyne shook her head. "This is more comfortable."

"I can agree with that," the girl told her young aunt solemnly.

"I have your approval, then?" Dove's eyes twinkled, and Cyne frowned in puzzlement.

"Did you need it?" Dove laughed again; Cyne failed to see what was so funny.

"Of course," the queen finally replied, pushing her thick braid of hair behind her back. "You met Merle, if I am correct?" Cyne nodded, remembering the excited redhead who had shook her hand so energetically. She had nearly forgotten the girl with all the chaos. "Good." Dove rose, and Cyne tossed the blanket off of herself and stepped to the floor.

"What happened to the man? The one that I- healed?" the girl asked softly, fearing the answer. She had _tried _to heal him. She did not want to find out that she had failed. Her aunt hesistated.

"He is fine, for now. Resting. Aly does not want anyone to speak to him. She's rather... upset." Her lips twitched into a wry smile. "He wanted to thank you, but Aly won't allow him anywhere near you."

"Were they trying to kill me?" Dove did not look at her. "I'm not frightened." It was a lie. She still remembered the terror that had overwhelmed her when she had seen the assassins. But Cyne wanted to know.

"We think so. Though why, aside from resentment towards me... It does not make much sense." But the woman would not meet her eyes. In that moment, Cyne thought that her Aunt Dove _did _know why, but did not want to tell her.

"I guess it doesn't." Her suspicions only grew when Dove looked at her, face innocently blank.

"Unfortunately, I have much to do right now. Duke Nomru insists that I bring his estates to my attention at once. But Merle will be able to show you around-" She shrugged. "A boy might be with her. Brand. He's Lord Sibigat's son." Cyne nodded. "I will be back, of course." Then she smiled, almost nervously. "If you would like, we could ride through the city. There- there is a place, not far out of the city walls, where we will find a good ride." As her shyness came back, the girl nodded wordlessly. "If that is fine with you…?" Her aunt looked worried.

"Um… that would be wonderful, Your Majesty." Deciding that to curtsy in a nightgown that clung close to her body would be pointless, Cyne bowed in the Kyprish style she had learned. When she looked up, she froze at the stunned expression in Dove's face. _Did I do something wrong- _

Her apprehensive look must have alerted Dove, because she smiled instantly.

"I'm sorry, Cyne," she said. "I was just- surprised. I didn't expect- You don't need to bow to me. At least, not in private." Cyne's brow furrowed.

"Why not?"

"You're family!" Dove said quickly. "I wouldn't want you to- to bow before me. I- I'm not that sort of person! I mean-" she continued hastily. "I won't let Winnamine or Petranne do that, unless we must in public!"

"Sorry," the girl whispered softly, looking down at the floor. She had not meant to upset her aunt.

"No," Dove replied quietly. "I apologize. There is nothing for you to be sorry for. I- Just seeing Sarai's daughter bowing to me- it took me by surprise." Then a short laugh escaped her lips. "You aren't like your mother, at all. Are you?" A smile crossed Cyne's face, and she drew herself up proudly.

"No," she answered, looking back at her aunt's kind face. "Papa _and _Mama say I'm like you." Dove lifted an eyebrow.

"Really?" Cyne nodded eagerly. "Well, that certainly is fitting, then," Dove said, musing over that tidbit of information.

"What do you mean?" The woman started, then another at-ease smile slid across her mouth.

"That you should be visiting me," she said, voice amused. "I see you have my same curiosity, too. Careful that you don't get lost exploring, my niece. I did, when I first wandered about here on my own... and that is one experience you would probably rather not have. Stay with Merle." Then, nodding, she turned to the door. Cyne followed.

"Where _is _Merle?"

The question was answered when Queen Dovasary opened the door. The short redhead was standing right outside.

"C'mon, Cyne!" she yelled, then giggled. "Oops. I s'pose you need to get dressed first." Cyne glanced down; she was wearing a nightgown.

"That would be a good idea," Dove said. Immediately, Merle looked up at the woman, then curtsied.

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," she said.

"Go on," Dove replied, smiling. Then she slipped out of the room, and Merle rushed in eagerly.

Once the door closed behind the bouncy redhead, the queen looked down the empty hall. "Well?"

Aly stepped out from around the corner, and then nodded.

"Victorcine and Rasaj will not let them out of their sight." Dove sighed in relief. "You know they are my best."

"Good. Though I still would prefer if either you or Taybur were watching." Aly surveyed her queen seriously.

"We will check, from time to time. But my job is your safety, Dove. And Taybur needs to watch the entire palace, not just two or three children in it."

"Of course," Dove said, but she still did not seem happy.

"Dove, you're brooding," Aly said in a teasing voice. "It isn't healthy to do that all the time, you know."

"Maybe just most of the time, then."

"What is it?" Aly asked.

"What do you think of Cyne?" Aly hesitated.

"It's hard to tell, Dove," she said gently. "I mean, she seems like a strong young girl…." She paused, debating on whether or not to pry. She decided not to say anything.

"What would you think of her as the next queen of the Copper Isles?" Dove persisted. Aly stiffened.

"Why would I ever need to consider her as that?" she questioned, voice light even as her heart sank. The whispers that had come to her were true, then... Dove glanced around the corridor, then stepped closer to her friend.

"I-" She looked down hastily, but Aly had already seen the wetness gathering in her dark eyes. The noblewoman waited patiently for Dove to speak; she knew that the woman had not spoken of this to anyone before this. "I can't have children, Aly," she whispered, before raising a hand to her cheek to wipe away an escaping tear. "That was my purpose for inviting Cyne in the first place. Well, one of my purposes. I wrote to her parents and-" She could not go on. Swiftly, Aly opened a door to a spare guestroom and brought Dove into the parlor. There, the queen sat down on a couch. She exhaled wearily. "Sileon and I have tried, and tried, Aly, but I can't-"

"Or he can't?" Aly suggested softly.

"No, no," Dove murmured. "It's me." Then she looked up at her friend's concerned face. "And I think how I will never-" She burst into sobs. Aly sat down next to her and hugged her gently. "Goddess, Aly, you have Merle, and Junai-" Dove cried for a few more moments, and Aly let her friend go when she stopped. "-and I _want _to be close with Cyne. I just don't know _how_."

"Well, you can't just meet her and suddenly be her closest friend," Aly replied logically, though she tried to speak in a soothing voice. Dove did not need the harsh matter-of-factness of her spymaster; she needed her friend, the one who had been with her throughout all her trying years. "It takes time. And time is something you will have, even if rumors start when you produce no heirs." Dove's dark eyes met Aly's hazel, and then narrowed shrewdly.

"How long have you known?" Aly looked away.

"I am your spymaster," she replied softly. "I need to know everything that might have an impact on the kingdom. _This _will have a great effect." The woman paused. "But you should not tell the girl. Not yet. Not until she is older."

"By how much?" Aly thought over that one quickly; it was not a difficult answer.

"Five years or so," she answered confidently. Then she hesitated. "Are you angry with me, for knowing before…?" Dove thought for a moment, watching Aly as she did.

"No," she said softly. "I would have to be a fool." A watery laugh escaped her lips. "And I hope that _that _is one thing I am not."

"Very rarely," Aly assured her with a smile. "And you have me to tell you when you are." The two smiled at each other.

"Thank you," Dove said softly.

* * *

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Merle called impatiently after Cyne, who followed gamely though she was still tired. The new dress- the sarong- was not helping either. Her strides were limited by the dress, which did not flare out like Carthaki designs. She dashed down the stairs, trying to keep her feet in the sandals she had found by her bedside. 

"How do you wear these?" she grumbled. Merle stopped, surprised.

"I don't wear them." Cyne looked. Merle's feet were bare. "It isn't like anyone ever notices."

"Should I take them off?" Cyne asked, frowning worriedly. She did not want to lose them, but if Merle took them off all the time... what if she was holding the other girl up? They stopped under an indoor tree. Light fell from the open ceiling above.

"If you like. I prefer it, really," Merle said. "It isn't like we're up before your aunt. _Then _I would have to wear sandals. And look neat and pretty." She made a face, which made Cyne giggle. "But if you aren't taking them off, let's go-" Cyne shrieked as something wet and slimy fell on her head. Jumping away, she knocked it off her head with a hasty slap of her hand. Then she paused. A wet rag lay on the floor where she had been. Someone snickered. She looked at Merle, who was scowling. The redheaded girl put her hands on her hips, then glared up into the tree.

"Not funny, Brand!" she yelled. "Cyne is a noble, you know!" Cyne followed Merle's gaze, but saw nothing except leaves.

"Then why's she with you?" a boy's voice demanded. Cyne stepped closer to the tree, then leapt back as a boy about their own age fell out of the tree right next to her.

"Very amusing," Merle jabbed back.

"I thought you were Lady Alianne's daughter," Cyne said to Merle, confused. The boy- Brand- sniggered again.

"Yeah, and I'm a lord's son. At least, that's what we're supposed to be."

"What do you mean?" Cyne felt stupid, especially with this cocky, obviously knowledgeable boy standing in front of her.

"Aw, stop acting like a show-off," Merle retorted, rolling her eyes in a way that told Cyne that _she _was _not _impressed. "He just means that we don't go to court and act like the usual noble. Just like our parents."

"We _learn _stuff," Brand said secretly. "Important stuff." Cyne was interested.

"Like what?"

"We can't tell _you_," he replied, as if that much was obvious. "You're a noble."

"Didn't you know? She's the queen's niece," Merle said smugly, as though it was somehow important that she had learned it before Brand.

"No, she isn't!" Brand said hotly. "Da woulda told me."

"Mama didn't tell _me_," Merle retorted, lifting an eyebrow. "_I _learned by myself."

"Did not!"

"Did too!" Cyne was bewildered by their fiery exchange. At home, she had been too quiet to speak much to boys- except her brother- and she had never seen any of them so familiar with a girl her own age. "I went down and found them! Ask Cyne!" Merle challenged. Both of them turned to look at her. Cyne felt her shyness come back with a vengeance, and an overwhelming awareness that they both were staring at her.

"I- I-" she stuttered. "I'm- Dove's niece."

"Ha! See!" Merle almost stuck her tongue out, but she remembered that Brand would tell her that was immature. So she kept her lips clamped shut.

Brand stared at Cyne for a long time, enough time for her to blush and wonder if she had something on her face, or in her teeth. But then he shrugged.

"You gonna be with us?" he asked. Unsure, Cyne glanced at Merle.

"Yes," the other girl said strongly, putting an arm around Cyne. "She's our friend."

Cyne smiled at Merle, then looked back at Brand. He was still watching her critically. Then, slowly, he reached out towards her. Cautiously, Cyne put her own hand up, and Brand took it in his own and shook it once, very firmly. Then he let go and tapped Merle on the shoulder.

"You're it," he said, then grabbed Cyne by the wrist and dragged her away at a run.

Brand was a boastful, intimidating boy, but, after a few months, it no longer troubled Cyne. Soon enough, she was trading her own insults with him and arguing louder than she ever had with anyone else, even Mequen.

And she learned something odd about her two companions. She was not certain why, but they learned many skills from lock picking to horse riding to battle strategies from a handful of otherwise unimportant, nameless people in the palace. She followed them to their lessons, and was soon accepted as a third student.

Cyne saw Nawat Crow once in awhile, but she never saw Lady Alianne nor Brand's parents again. She had not even met Brand's mother. According to Brand, his mother was a woman by the name of Vereyu, who had met Sibigat sometime after the Raka rebellion.

But her some of her favorite moments were with her aunt and Dove's stepmother and half-sister. Winnamine and Petranne both met with her when Dove was called away, but Cyne enjoyed riding and talking with her aunt the most. Often, Dove would reference or suggest a book that Cyne would find in the royal library- with Merle's or Brand's help- to read later. Her tutors were not strict, but they did not have to be; Cyne did not mind studying as her friends did.

"I only like our special lessons," Brand had commented impatiently one day after his tutor had scolded him.

Cyne could not argue with him; learning to decode messages and use daggers seemed much more practical than learning about some dead scholar, though she did not know how she could use such talents later in life.

She had also wondered, more than once, what her Aunt Dove thought of those lessons. The woman seemed to listen with interest, but every once in awhile- especially when Cyne was excited- she seemed to frown, very slightly. As if she thought she needed to know, but did not want to.

It did not trouble Cyne much. She dove into her studies, knowing that, soon, she would be able to learn more about her Gift. First, however, she needed to know sign language; Ysul, the raka mage Dove insisted teach Cyne, was mute. Cyne had asked Dove once why the man could not speak. The queen had only smiled, and said that some very bad people had done very bad things when he was young.

"Slavers?" Cyne had wanted to know. "Or the Rittevons?" The luarin rulers of the Copper Isles had been known for their cruelty.

"Um… yes," Dove had answered, slightly flustered. Then she cleared her throat. "Ah… the Rittevons. They-" The woman bit her lips and fell silent.

Without thinking, Cyne had put her arms around the woman. Dove froze; Cyne had never hugged her before.

"Don't be sad," the girl told her aunt. She felt Dove stroke her long, silky hair.

"I'm not," she had said softly, then hugged Cyne back. "No. I think- I think I'm very, very happy."

"That Ysul can't talk?" Cyne asked, a confused frown on her face. "Isn't that a bad thing?" Dove laughed.

"Yes, it is. I'm just glad that- well, because," she decided on saying.

"Because I hugged you?" the clever girl asked. Dove was surprised; surely even _she _had not been so intuitive.

"Yes," she answered softly.

"If it makes you so happy, I'll give you a hug every night," Cyne told her aunt. Something inside Dove seemed to warm with the small girl's promise. Almost like something hard inside was shattering…. She looked into Cyne's bright blue-green eyes and smiled.

"I would like that very much." There was something odd about her niece. One moment, Cyne was as mature as one with twenty winters. Then she would say something, or do something, that made her so young, innocent, and infinitely precious.

Aly would have liked having the girl to train as a spy, like Merle and Brand, Dove reflected. But no. Dove was not about to have anything like that happen to Cyne. She was too precious to Dove. Even the trickster himself, who loved to interfere in anyone's and everyone's future, could see that.

* * *

_AN: What do you think? Is Dove kidding herself? Or jinxing herself? Or is she absolutely right?_

_I hope to post every Friday (crosses fingers) and maybe on Mon/Tues, too. _


	6. Chapter 6: The Gift

**AN: **Thanks to my reviewers **Darking Girl**, **Ginastar**,** fairydust000**, and **PieofDoomeh**! Thanks to **Lady Muck**, **Mage Firestorm**, **KyrieofAccender**, too! Christine, if you're reading this, I need your email address!

Disclaimer: I'm not Tamora Pierce. End of story. Well, not really. The story's just beginning... Ugh. That's a lame disclaimer. Anyway, you get the point.

* * *

Chapter Six 

The Gift

May 22nd 477 H. E.

"You're Ysul?" The slender man, obviously part-raka, nodded once. The seated man was probably in his late forties, Cyne decided. "I've seen you before," she told him, shutting the door of his office behind her. Her shyness had abated as she had become better friends with the imperious Brand, but every once in awhile it would come and leave her wordless again. But right now, she had no such qualms. She knew he spoke with Dove in the court often; the jug handle-like ears were hard not to recognize, even from some distance away. He smiled, then signaled. To her delight, Cyne understood him perfectly.

And I have seen you.

"Are you going to start teaching me today?" Again, she watched his deft fingers work out a message.

Some basics. Have you learned fire spells?

Spells. Incantations. Cyne bit her lip, then shook her head. She did not know if she should tell the man about what her father had said. She had promised.

But he was to be her teacher….

His dark eyes watched the nervous girl carefully. 

"Umm…. I'm not sure I should tell you," she said shyly. "I- I promised Papa I would not, but-" A glimmer of laughter in his eyes stopped her.

He asked, _That you think, you ask? That you do not use incantations? _He had been told, then. Cyne sighed with relief, then nodded. 

"Do you know why?" she asked, eyeing the floor. Then she realized she could not understand him unless she looked. She glanced up at his hand.

_No. All I know is it is unusual, and that I can help you control your Gift._ He paused. _Raka magic is very controlled, very subtle. _

"Because otherwise you would have been killed by luarins," Cyne said. Ysul nodded grimly. "Papa told me."

_Has he shown you anything of our magic? Of subtle Gifts?_

She frowned, trying to remember.

"Maybe. Oh! He gave me a chain that looks like it isn't spelled, but it detects poisons." Swiftly, she reached underneath her overcoat to pull a chain from underneath her sarong. A thin, ovular black stone was at the end of the chain; it would grow warm if a poison was within five feet of her. Ysul nodded again.

That is very valuable, very useful. Especially for one so high in court.

"Am I?" Cyne asked curiously. "I mean, I'm the queen's relative, but-"

He smiled gently at the small girl.

_You are. Do not doubt or underestimate your position. You are important. _Cyne colored; she was not sure how she felt about being important. If she indeed was.

"Um… what should I do first?" Cyne asked, slightly flustered.

_I will ask you several simple questions. That is all. _She relaxed. _No trouble?_

"None at all," she replied. Questions about herself she could handle, particularly if they resulted in answers to her own questions.

_I understand that you healed a man, when you first arrived. _The man watched her carefully. _Why did you do it? He tried to kill you. _Cyne looked away, embarrassed and not exactly sure of how to explain herself. Put like that, her action seemed foolish.

"I- I felt I should have," she said softly. "He was dying- and I- I felt him- and I didn't want him to die." Seeing him move his fingers, she glanced up.

Felt?

"Mm-hm," Cyne replied, wishing she did not have to explain. It was difficult, and she was not entirely sure herself. "I was in my well- the source- of my Gift. I- I create an ocean in my mind, to find it," she clarified. Ysul nodded, indicating she go on. "And- I felt his presence, somewhere beyond where I was. And I did not want him to go. The darkness-" A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the dream she had had afterwards, the black cloud in the clear water. She had had recurring nightmares, almost always the same. But they had not been as terrible as the first one.

The mage leaned in towards Cyne intently, fingers drumming together as he furrowed his brow in thought. Then he signed.

_You use imagery to summon your power more easily. Is it difficult to call up? _The girl cleared her throat.

"Yes. But I have no problems when I think about the ocean," she answered softly.

_So you are not as in touch with your Gift as most Gifted children. But once you do bring it forwards... _He tapped his thumb with his forefinger as he mulled over his ideas. _It is easier to use. And stronger. All you need do is think, and it becomes. Are you tired, after a spell?_

"No more than any other Gifted student," she said, feeling stupid in front of this knowledgable man who contemplated her power so seriously. She could almost see his ideas whirling around behind his intent expression.

_And you just healed this man? By asking your Gift?_ Dumbly, she nodded._ That is very extraordinary. _

"That's what Papa thought, I think," she answered. "He always seemed so- so _smug_."

And he never told you anything?

"Only that I'm special." A smile lit up Ysul's face.

You are, even without your Gift. Now, I would like for you to start some meditation exercises. They will strength your will and control-

Meditation was hard. Cyne had tried it with her father and had quickly given up, but Ysul eased her into it gradually, making the exercises longer and longer as weeks progressed. Soon, moving a candle- the same fateful exercise Zaimid had attempted with her one night at the dinner table- was simple, and she began moving larger, heavier items in patterns. Then two object at a time. Then three.

And somehow, despite all the extra time she put in for her magical lessons and exercises, she did not lose any time for any of her other studies. In fact, she was beginning to catch up with Brand and Merle when her twelfth birthday came.

To her intense relief, Dove had not ordered a large celebration. Instead, a small party with relatively few guests was held. Among those invited was an older man, one of Dove's close advisors, named Duke Nomru. Cyne met him formally at the beginning of the celebration and spoke to him later in the evening.

"So. You are Cyne?" he asked when she came over to speak to him. Then he smiled. "I was beginning to wonder who the third hooligan of that little band was." As she looked up at him and smiled in reply, she reflected that he did not seem the type of person to make jokes often. His serious, drawn face was too grim. He was making an effort to be friendly, and that bothered her. In her mind, there was little if any reason to be kind to a young girl of twelve winters. "Dove speaks well of you." Was he simply curious?

"I should hope so, Your Grace," she answered. "I only speak well of her." He chuckled.

"You're as clever as she ever was, make no mistake," he laughed.

"You knew her as a child?"

"My dear, I have known Her Majesty for quite a long time." His chuckles abated, and he sighed. "Since before the rebellion." Cyne's eyes lit up. Perhaps he would tell her more!

"I have heard," she began, excitement obvious in her eager eyes. "-that the raka rose because the luarin were cruel. But so much about it seems strange. I have heard whispers of gods, and crows-"

"Indeed," Nomru said, apparently happy to spin a long tale for the rest of the night. He sat down in a chair, and Cyne leaned up against a table next to it. "Kyprioth, missy. He's the god of the tricksters, who started it all. He ruled over the Isles, until his brother and sister, Mithros and the Goddess, luarin gods, came with the raka's conquerors and overthrew him. But Kyprioth would not back down. Instead, he brought about the rebellion. Helped a bit here and there." He laughed. "He stole a person or two from their homes and brought them to the Isles to help. Somehow, oddly enough, Tortall was convinced to fund the raka's costly uprisings, though you didn't hear that from me, alright?" She nodded intently, wanting to hear more. "And, when the time came to rise, with the prophecy that your aunt would come to the throne, he and his tricksters fought their divine brother and sister, and won back Kyprioth's title as patron of the Isles." She had heard most of it before, though Kyprioth was a new name to her.

"And the crows-"

"Crows have the ability to… shape shift… into humans, if they wish." Cyne stared at him for a long moment. Then her brain started working again, and she stuttered as she tried to bring her first thought to words.

Merle's father. He was an odd man, what with the little endearments he used and names for certain places and people. And she had heard him called 'Aly's crow-man' more than once. She had always pushed it to the side, assuming it was a joke of some type that referred to his surname. But now-

"Merle- her father- Nawat- Lady Alianne-"

"Yes." Nomru's eyes glittered with humor. "Aly married a crow. But Nawat has been a man for quite some time. He loves her, you see." After a long moment of thought, Cyne shook her head.

"Beg pardon, but I don't see how anyone could give up the gift of flight for- for love."

"Just as I can't understand your mother's choice to flee the kingdom that would have made her queen for a Carthaki," the man shot back, though not unpleasantly. Cyne blushed and wondered for the first time since she had arrived how much trouble Sarai's escape had caused.

"Love does something funny to a person," the girl told him simply. "I don't think I want to understand it." He chuckled, then patted her on the back.

"Very good. Stay away from the youths. That will keep Dove's hairs from turning gray. She should not have them, not at her young age." She nodded in agreement silently, then curtsied neatly and wandered off to where Dove was talking with a baroness. She smiled indulgently as Cyne came to her side and greeted the woman.

"Hello," the queen murmured, compromising her dignity by ruffling her niece's hair. "Cyne, this is Lady Rosamma Tomang. Her mother was part of the luarin conspiracy, and died in the final revolt." Cyne nodded, staring up to observe the blond beauty. She wore a striking, bright blue dress in a Tortallan style. "Her brother, Ferdolin, courted my sister. Your mother." The woman met Cyne's startling blue-green gaze for a long moment.

"Yes, I see the resemblance," she told Dove before clearing her throat. "Your mother was one of my friends. I loved her dearly, even if she was very… lively." By this time, Cyne could tell the difference between courtliness and actual warmness. Rosamma Tomang was certainly in the former half of the court. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her side; she obviously could not wait to leave, possibly with one of the young men who might take an older woman for her fortune. When she left a few moments later, Cyne looked up at Dove and made a small face before assuming a completely blank and polite expression again. A smile crept across the queen's face, and she put a hand on her charge's shoulder and squeezed it gently as she leaned over towards Cyne's ear.

"It will be over soon," she promised. "She was one of the people I could not help but invite, even if it is a small, selective gathering."

"I talked to Nomru," Cyne said.

"Ah? What did you think of him?" Dove asked, curiosity aroused. The girl shrugged.

"He told me about Lord Nawat Crow. I had been wondering about his surname-" Then she paused, eyes narrowed. "Can Merle change into a bird?" Dove quickly smoothed a smile.

"I wouldn't know," she told Cyne, trying not to laugh. "You should ask her." Then she nodded over across the room. "She and Brand are over there, looking bored." Dove did not say anything else; Cyne was already heading over to her friends, who brightened considerably when they saw her.

"About time." Brand put his hands on his hips. "Here I was thinking that we got all dressed up only to catch a glimpse of you at a distance."

"Hm." Merle looked over at him. "The only reason for staying at a distance was because you were too scared to go up to all those important people she was talking to." Seeing Brand draw himself up indignantly in a way that always preceded a long and usually boring argument for Cyne, she cut him off before he could open his mouth.

"What do your parents do for the queen?" she asked desperately, praying to any nearby gods that they would forget the fight. Fortunately, this tactic instantly distracted Brand.

Unfortunately, by the knowing smirk on his face, Cyne knew she was in for a long-winded bragging in which he would say nothing but nonsense. She suspected that the majority- if not all- of the his gender engaged in this sort of lecture quite often. She wondered if it was to make up for feeling so inferior towards all the women around them.

"A bit of this and that," he replied, grinning his head off. Cyne decided to punch hard at their next hand-to-hand combat lesson. Merle was right; the boy _did _deserve it. "You know. Stuff that must be kept secure for the good of the-" Merle silenced him with a jab on the arm. "Yeowch!" He glared dirtily at her. "I might just have to retaliate-"

"Careful," Cyne warned. "You might find yourself with two against one. You can barely win against one of us-"

"-you'd be crushed if you tried to fight both of us," Merle finished, grinning. Brand scowled.

"I knew it was a mistake to include her," he said, jerking his head towards Cyne. "Now I know why you wanted her to become friends with us; you wanted to be able to always win all your battles. She always sides with you."

"Too bad you didn't realize that a few months ago," Cyne retorted sweetly, winking at Merle. After replying with a sly grin, the redhead tossed a cracker from a nearby tray at Brand.

She did not realize that there might be repercussions until it was too late.

* * *

AN: Food fight. Heh heh. I don't think all those stuffy noblewomen are going to be pleased in a few moments… (evil laugh)


	7. Chapter 7: Tempting the Gods

_AN: Please note that this is THREE years later! (I don't know about you, but I __never__ pay attention to the dates- I'm a spaz that way! And other ways!)_

_Thanks to **C. T. Eleczko**, **Ginastar**, **fairydust000**, **Lady Merlin**, **Pie of Doomeh**, and **Darking Girl** for your reviews! Thank you to my betas! It's thanks to **KyrieofAccender **that you guys have this chapter!_

_Disclaimer: I'm not Tamora Pierce. Tortall, the Copper Isles, Carthak, and most of the characters, etc, are NOT mine! Cyne, her brother and sister, Brand, and Merle are mine! That's about it!_

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_Chapter Seven_

_Tempting the Gods_

_September 8__th__ 480 H. E. _

"Hey!" Rolling her eyes, Cyne ignored Brand's indignant protest as she strode down the hall. "Wait up!" Sighing, she paused at the top of the stairwell and looked back, eyebrows raised at her companion. Gasping for breath, he jogged up to her and stopped. A smile playing across her lips, she instantly turned and began walking even faster. "_Now _you're doing that on purpose! Slow up a bit!"

"Thankfully for you, Brand," she drawled. "-spies don't have to be very physically fit."

"Of course they have to be, I- hey!" he squawked. When she turned back to him, Cyne did not bother hiding the smile. She cocked an eyebrow.

"Took you long enough to figure out I was insulting you."

"Well, for your information, I just ran to catch up with you. All the way from Merle's chambers!" She gasped.

"Oh, no!" she said mockingly. "All that way, only to have me walk away from you at a decent pace!"

"Decent pace, my frigging-" Cyne looked up to the ceiling as Brand swore. "I don't know how you do it, small as you are." It was true; he was a full head taller than her.

"Quiet," she snapped, tossing her dark braid over a shoulder. "I want to find out what your parents and my aunt were talking about-"

"And I say it's none of your business! That's why they aren't discussing it _with _you-" She fell momentarily deaf to him as she turned down the corridor leading to Dove's study.

"If you aren't going to shut up, you should go," she said in the most cheerful voice she could manage. "Before I hit you over the head with something," she continued in a mutter.

"Oh, now you're resorting to threats. You're becoming more like Merle by the da-"

"Shh!"

"-but-" Whirling around, Cyne glared warningly at him, one finger expressively pointing back the way they had come. "But-"

"Nope!" she interrupted him, a dangerously tyrannical glitter in her eye. "I"m starting to think that Merle has the right idea of it! Go away if you're going to talk! Go on!"

"I-"

"Ah ah ah!" She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. With a huff and a less-than-dignified glare her way, Brand fell silent, and Cyne allowed herself a smug smile. She had known his curiosity would get the better of him, just as hers got the better of her all the time, which had led to the plan to eavesdrop when she had heard Lady Alianne and Dove talking about her. Brand should have known better than to hinder when she was seeking answers.

She had promised Merle to find out whatever it was, since the other girl was too sick to get up. A few days ago, Merle had been watching one of the noble's children when the poor boy chucked up the contents of his stomach all over her lap. Whatever she had caught, both of her friends knew they did not want to be anywhere nearby...

The two crept towards the door. In one swift step, Cyne moved so that she was on the opposite side of the door, ear pressed up against the crack, her body positioned so that she would not be seen through the door cracks. Dove had told her that Aly had once caught her spying because of that mistake.

Several months were spent torturing Brand after the exciting birthday three years earlier that ended with many huffy noblewomen stalking out with food stuck to their gowns. Finally, Cyne had found out that Taybur Sibigat was an assistant to none other but the spymaster of the Copper Isles, who simply happened to be Lady Alianne, Merle's mother. It made sense, she had decided, after she had spent a couple of hours wondering why she had not pieced it together herself. After all, Merle and Brand had been trained for what she knew to be spy work now, and she had been with them the whole time. It was hardly her fault if she could not figure out so simple an answer-

"-as I was saying," she heard Dove continue doggedly. "I haven't an idea on how to keep such news from her." Cyne stiffened; she didn't like to be vain, but she could not doubt that _she _was the 'she' Dove was referring to. Why else would they leave when her aunt saw her walk in? Despite advice from Aly, Dove trusted Cyne with anything and everything that went on, in the palace and out of it. "I mean, her parents… were not happy, and-"

"Then just tell her!" Cyne recognized the voice of Lady Alianne, otherwise known as Aly. "Dammit, it isn't that terrible!"

"Oh?" Dove demanded, voice slightly shrill. "That pirates have invaded the coastline of Carthak and she won't be seeing her family any time soon?"

Cyne's stomach sank; she had not seen her family since she had last left Carthak, about three years ago. Finally, they were supposed to come and see her, but if Carthak had pirate trouble-

"I ought to know about not seeing family," Aly was saying. "Dove, it's hard, but not impossible. She'll still be able to function-"

"Oh, function. Yes, as long as she can still walk and talk, that's fine." The queen's voice was bitter. "I'm sorry, I forgot her _welfare _is my concern-"

"-as well as mine," Aly injected sharply. "She's my daughter's friend. One of my daughter's _closest _friends. And she's my dearest friend's niece. I might not know her very well-"

"No, you-"

"-for reasons of concealing my-"

"Aly, there is little cause for concern. She knows you're the spymaster of the Isles." There was a long silence.

"What?" the woman asked quietly, sounding stunned.

"Either she found out herself, or Brand or Merle told her," Dove explained. "I don't know _how _I know she knows or how I found out- she just _does_." She hesitated. "I don't think you give her enough credit. She knows how to keep her mouth shut."

"I agree with that," Aly muttered, still distracted.

"And she's growing more and more important as she grows up. Soon she will be part of the elite circle that knows who you are and knows the details of the secrets of the kingdom!"

"Of course, of course," she muttered. "Sorry, Dove." Cyne heard Dove's familiar sigh and smiled. She could almost _see _her aunt brushing a few loose strands of her hair out of her face. It was something Dove always did when she was agitated. "I'm just so caught up in-"

"Work," Dove completed practically. "Yes. I know. We all are." Cyne jerked her head at Brand, and they drew away and down the hall. She had found out what she had wanted to know, and she would have to be as cheerful as ever until Dove told her.

She missed her father. Ysul was a great teacher, but he still was not her father. He never teased her or complained about his day with her... And she missed Mequen. Her brother had always been a steady presence in her life, and now he was a shadow of a presence, somewhere across the Emerald Ocean, sending letters when he could.

He had been at the training school for knights for two years, and was doing well there. Cyne had not heard from her mother or Neoma, but she had expected that. Neoma was young, and her mother... was her mother. Cyne sighed. Sarai certainly meant well, and would have written... if she had had the patience to sit down at a desk and puzzle out what to say in a letter that would travel over land and sea to her waiting daughter. Sometimes, Cyne wondered if her mother had even bothered to pick up a quill and attempt to write a note or two.

But what worried her more was that she was not sure if _she _herself cared whether Sarai had or not.

"Well, I'm not caught up in work," Brand murmured lowly as they reached one of the many reception halls. Lips twitching in amusement, Cyne noticed that several of the primmed and well-dressed girls- all of whom were only a few years older than she- looked at her with mixed disgust for her breeches, envy for her companion, and shock that they were alone. She doubted they knew who she was, and was grateful for it. If they did know, they would probably surround her with their fake smiles and compliments, each trying to gain the favor of the Queen. Cyne snorted; as if what she thought of them could make them higher in her aunt's esteem! Then again, the girls would still probably be more intrigued with her companion.

Brand was an attractive young man, when he made an effort to be presentable. His tangled black hair had- at closer inspection- golden threads that shone in the sun, and his deep, darkly honey-colored eyes captured the fancy of more than one young woman. He was also tall enough for most ladies to accept as a dancing partner without question, and muscular from his combat training. Cyne and Merle had long ago decided not to mention this to Brand. As Merle put it, if his head swelled anymore, Brand would need new hats. And it would cruel for the two girls to add to his expenses. The boy in question looked to the ceiling and a long sigh escaped him. Cyne's eyebrows rose slightly.

"What?"

"I wish that somebody up there would give me something to do. I'm bored, and nothing productive comes out of being bored, except lovely verses that describe the beauty of young women at Co- Yewoch!" He glared at Cyne, who was already studying the opposite wall innocently.

"As you were saying, _absolutely _nothing productive comes out of sitting around bored," she replied as they passed by several giggling young noblewomen. "But I ought to clot you over the head for jinxing us like that, except that I am proclaiming to the gods now that I have _nothing _to do with you and thus should not be dragged off on whatever harebrained quest they can think up for your lack of appreciation for boredom. You ever hear what happened to Merle's ma? _She _got kidnapped by pirates and hauled off to the slave pens after she started wishing for excitement." Brand sighed woefully.

"Ah, for the trials of the world around us. I wish something exciting could happen to-"

"You, and you alone," Cyne said firmly. "Nothing about me or Merle. We like our eternal boredom."

"Ah, but no one writes about those that manage to survive that peril," he replied dramatically as they swept out the hall and the gazes of oogling girls and glares of well-groomed matrons. "I would like a ballad, all to myself-"

He was silenced by a barrage of teasing hits all the way down to the stables.

* * *

_September 29__th__ 480 H. E. _

The streets were dark, and the tall buildings shadowed the bustling crowd even more. As pickpockets and prostitutes slipped out into the world before them, merchants closed up shop and locked whatever rare valuable there might have been away. And, unknown to the world around them, three folk observed the scenes around them with the air of those who had never been there before without a proper guard.

"Don't tell me that you're chickening out now," Brand whispered. Cyne swallowed as her wary, bright eyes traveled around their surroundings.

"This was a stupid idea," Merle hissed. "Sneaking out of the palace. At dusk, too!" Then she glanced down at her fine clothes and grimaced. "In these! I think not, Brand!"

"You should have thought about that before," he retorted smugly. "Me and Cyne wore the right sort of-"

"Yeah, as close as I could get. It still isn't close enough to common clothes, even for wealthy merchants. Remember that the two of us girls don't have so much to wear that can pass for-"

"It ain't bad," he said, flexing his fingers lazily. Cyne was tired of this game; she scowled angerily at Brand.

"Yes, it is. If you had the brains of a skunk­-"

"-along with the stink of one," Merle chimed in.

"-then you'd know we shouldn't be doing this."

"So? Blame it on me." Cyne could barely hear her friend in the din around them; she grabbed her two friends and slipped down out of the square before retorting.

"That doesn't _work_; we'll only get in more trouble for trying to push the blame to you. You idiot, it would be better just to-" Cyne and Brand both whirled around as Merle screamed.

While they had been arguing, they had wandered down a narrow, dark street.

And, somehow, it had to be empty, except for-

Cyne froze as about ten, burly men crept out of the shadows around them. Two blocked the entrance to the loud, bustling marketplace where one would be relatively safe. A small gasp escaped her lips as two more thugs blocked off the rest of the alley and their friends spread out around the two pairs.

And if their hard, confident expressions meant anything, they were not about to let three young nobles get away.

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_AN: Eeeee. Not the best of cliffhangers, I know. I'll try to do better in the future._

_I also realize it's shorter than most of my other chapters. But I think that it was nessecary to end here._

_I will have chapter 8 on Tuesday. Perhaps even Monday, but Monday's a busy day for me... Working at a kids' camp, basketball, and soccer practice keep me busy. _Very_ busy. _

_Oh, by the way, if any of you like, check out **Group Askew**! It's a roundrobin group that I'm part of. Right now, we're writing Eldorne's Atonement, a story about Delia's young relative and how she tries to redeem Eldorne's good name! _


	8. Chapter 8: A Wager

_A/N: I'm SO SORRY! I was at my friend's play and at personal trainer yesterday and it was too late when I got back... and Mom disconnected the keyboard. (sheepish smile) Well, it's my sister's b-day today, so I gotta go! Enjoy!_

Disclaimer: Nope. Not Tamora Pierce, so I don't own everything. I own characters and the story, not the setting or most characters.

_

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_

_Chapter Eight_

_A Wager_

"Oh… damn." Cyne gritted her teeth. She swore very rarely, but she thought that the circumstances excused her. Besides, both Brand and Merle seemed too stunned to foul up the air with their impressive vocabulary at the moment. "Skegging damn..."

"Yeah," Brand said faintly. "Yeah, I'd agree with those sentiments."

"Shut up," she ordered, now determined to beat him if- _when_- they got out of this. Her mind worked swiftly; now, she was _very _grateful for those lessons in combat and defense, no matter how much pain they had put her through. Even though recently Dove had been stealing her niece away from the training field and into the court and lessons of proper behaviors, Cyne was as quick and strong as her friends. "We're gonna have to make a run for it. Wait until they close down a little. Surprise is our only chance. I might be able to Freeze one or two." She swallowed nervously, then sent a prayer up to any listening gods that she could manage that. She pushed the thought that she might fail away stubbornly. Especially since the idea that she could even the odds- if only slightly- seemed to comfort her friends.

"And then?" Brand prompted, and Cyne wet her lips nervously. She found herself calmer than she could have believed, after she had gotten over the intial shock. Part of her repeated steadily _don't panic, stay calm... _but she was not sure she even needed that reminder. Her mind was oddly cold, and the danger seemed to heighten her senses so that she saw everything happen slower than it did, and with more clarity-

"Knock over the guy with the rag over his head; he's limping, and he's less brawny than some of the others. Merle, you're fastest. Go and keep going, back and all the way to your ma's rooms if you have to; don't look back."

"If I have to?" the girl echoed, and Cyne grimaced before she grimly elaborated. She had hoped that Merle would not question her words. She did not want to think about this-

"If we get caught." Merle swore under her breath. Then she turned to Brand.

"If we survive this, we're going to kill you. In a very painful way. We're gonna have to ask your father what method of torture he thinks best."

"I'll just lop off my own head, first, thanks." Brand laughed weakly, though there was a glint in his eyes that showed a spark of determination that might bode ill for their attackers. "Now?" Cyne shook her head, but she tensed; her friends saw and prepared themselves. She watched the group, calculating their approach with an intense stare.

"Right… now!"

Several things happened at once.

First, the three youths rushed forwards, heading straight for the man Cyne had pointed out.

Second, a light suddenly flared where they had been a moment before, in the center of the ring of men.

Third, the man the three friends were planning to push aside froze in place.

They did not notice at first, but all the men had frozen. It was only after they knocked into the man- he was harder than they had thought- and fell over without moving him an inch that Cyne realized something strange had happened. She knew that the man she had chosen had not been that sturdy, his center of balance off...

In fact, she had only thought that a brick wall could have been _that_ hard.

"That had to hurt," an amused voice from behind her commented. Puzzled, Cyne turned with Brand and Merle to see a tall man, wearing a bright coat and elaborate jewelry of obvious Kyprish origin. He was lean and muscular; a peppered beard grew on his face.

And something inside Cyne knew, instantly, who this was.

She ran through a string of curses in her head even as she fell to her knees before Kyprioth, God of the Isles. And, foremost in her mind as she touched the ground with her forehead, God of the Tricksters.

"We are in _so _much trouble," she whispered. The god before them chuckled.

"Now, my dear. Don't go saying that. First of all, I really don't deserve that. And second-" Slowly, Cyne looked up at Kyprioth, initial awe wearing off. "-your dear aunt said the exact same thing eighteen years ago. It _is _rather dreary, having the same line tossed your way more than once. I would expect you to be more creative." He surveyed her crictically. "Even if you are uncannily like my little bird." Cyne's eyebrows rose; were the being in question not a god, she doubted anyone could be daring- or mad- enough to refer to her aunt in such a way.

"What do you want?" Cyne heard Merle asking nervously. The god grinned widely and winked at her.

"Truly, dear. You didn't think that I was done with your family, did you?" He sighed dramatically; Cyne was reminded of Brand for a brief moment and inwardly groaned. Any god that Brand resembled could not be healthy to be associated with. "_So _much talent. Why would I just let that go, especially now that you're all so familiar with me?"

"Yeah? My ma _warned _me about you," Merle retorted. "She told me to tell you to shove off and talk to her if you ever appeared to me." Cyne marveled at Merle's nerve to stand up to a god. By the bewildered expression in her eyes, Merle was surprised, too.

"Ah. That tongue would be your grandmother showing up in you, Merle. She always had such mettle. She still does." He shook his head. "I still can't understand _why _George decided she was appealing as a mate. Really, some things are unfathomable even to the gods."

"Good thing," Cyne said steadily, emboldened by Merle's comments. "Otherwise we'd be stuck with you interfering all the time. You picked a rather inconvenient time to show up." She gestured to the men around them. "We really do need to run. If you could keep them frozen until we leave, we'd appreciate it."

"Not an option," the god replied instantly, black eyes very serious. Cyne hesitated; she had heard too many stories about people chosen by the gods to doubt what was coming. She just really,_ really_ hoped she was wrong.

"So… we'll just run after you unfreeze them again, I suppose."

"No," Kyprioth replied, a little too patiently. "They'll catch you. I saw that coming and decided to _interfere_, as you call it. Very kind of me, I think."

"Then what are you- we- supposed to do?" Brand asked, finally getting the nerve to speak to the god. The black eyes flickered to the youth, then back to the two girls on either side of him.

"Very kind of me to interfere," he repeated. "But… before I save you… I do believe repayment is in order." He paused in thought, though he obviously already knew what he was going to say. "A wager, perhaps." Cyne's blue-green eyes flickered to Merle as the girl groaned softly. A wicked grin lighting up his face, Kyprioth rubbed his hands together, then winked. "And you seem to know those words, my dear Merle?"

"They were what got my mama into trouble in the first place," she muttered back at him. The god assumed an expression of innocence surprise.

"Trouble?" he echoed. "Surely not. I got your mother _out _of a few tight spots in exchange for a few- services."

"Such as?" Cyne prompted, dread of what was certain to come losing to curiosity. For the moment.

"Revolting with the raka. But don't you worry," he added hastily when they blanched. "Your work won't be nearly as exciting."

"Then what?" Cyne asked, intrigued despite a nasty sense of foreboding.

"Do you have to ask?" Merle wondered, obviously not very pleased with the god's expression. Kyprioth studied his nails with the studious air of a professor about to order about three misbehaved pupils.

"Well, there are a few things that you three could do. The one I like the most is stealing the Dominion Jewel from Tortall." Then his bright eyes, alit with mischief, darted up to see Merle's stunned, already half-protesting face, and the Trickster chuckled. "Don't fret that pretty head off. I wouldn't ask you to play up against your grandfather." He paused significantly. "Yet."

"Who's your grandfather?" Cyne and Brand asked their friend in unison. She looked away. Then Brand frowned.

"And what makes you think we'll have dealings with you after this?" he asked, sounding worried.

"Oh," the god chuckled. "Even the Graveyard Hag won't bet against me on that." Then he swiftly changed the subject. "All I need for you to do is find someone." Though both her friends relaxed slightly, Cyne cocked a dark eyebrow at the god. _All _they needed to do?

"Oh?"

"Yes." The Trickster seemed very absorbed in his nails again. Then he reached out towards them to display his hand and his many rings adorning it. "See this band?" he asked, tapping one finger. The three mortals looked. It was solid gold, with a black stone inset. Inside the stone was a small, copper cat with spots on its back. "I have lost an amulet with the same design as this stone."

"Lost?" Merle asked, voice skeptical. The god shrugged eloquently.

"More or less. Actually, more like the time an exceptionally clever horse thief… _borrowed _the shield of my brother and sister from its hidden place in the Divine Realms." Cyne frowned; the look on the trickster's face was too innocently bland for him to be mentioning that off-handedly.

"And you had nothing to do with that, of course," she commented sarcastically, wondering if all gods liked to brag so subtly that it was blatantly obvious.

"Me? Never?" He pulled his hand back.

"I refuse to believe that the words 'me' and 'never' go together in your case," the girl muttered. Kyprioth ignored her.

"I _need _that amulet back. The thief is somewhere in Rajmuat, which makes the job even easier. Take into consideration that it must have been someone with divine assistance, to enter the realms of the gods where the amulet was." He drew himself up and studied the trio before him. "Agreed?" They exchanged glances amongst themselves. "It isn't as if you have a choice. Besides… it's a very simple task." His voice softened, the barest traces of a whine in it. If Cyne had not known better, she would have said he was pleading with them. "Nothing at all, especially for you. I will help you now, and you will find this amulet for me. Swear?" It was not as though they had much of a choice. Sighing, Cyne nodded.

"I swear."

"I swear," muttered Merle.

"I swear," parroted Brand. A huge smile leapt across the god's face.

"Excellent." Then he leaned over and kissed Merle's forehead. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed with a sigh. The god patted Brand on the back, then leaned over to kiss Cyne. She yelped and leapt with surprise as his lips touched her skin; they sent a charge running through her. "You are an unusual one, aren't you?" Kyprioth muttered with an odd smile. "You and I will certainly be meeting again, Cyne Hetnim." Then he cleared his throat. "You'll find yourselves in the hallway near the boy's chambers. Be grateful your parents-" He nodded at both Brand and Merle. "-have decided that you ought to take care of yourselves and have your own rooms. Otherwise, you would have to sneak past them. I would not envy you that task."

Then, with a careless flick of a hand, he and all their surroundings dissolved, melting and mixing together until the mentioned corridor appeared before their eyes. Cyne looked at Merle. The girl was breathing hard, and sweat ran down her face. Cyne knew she was in a similar condition. She glanced over at Brand. Then she giggled. He seemed pole-axed. When he looked at her, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she laughed. "But this silence could be an improvement. Is it permanent?" Brand answered her with a glare before he stalked into his rooms and slammed the door shut behind him. "Maybe we ought to burn incense to Kyprioth," she whispered to Merle. "Now _there's _a miracle you get once in a century." Then both of them dissolved into muffled giggled and ran towards their own rooms.

* * *

_And the plot thickens! Quite exciting, isn't it? I feel like doing a couple of cartwheels myself. Except that I can't do a cartwheel. I could try... but everyone around me would die of laughter, and I don't need to be arrested for manslaughter. I'd never finish this. Cheers!_


	9. Chapter 9: Searching

_A/N: Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Second time in a row!!!!!!! So sorry! Someone up there had been telling me that posting this week just isn't the thing to do! On Friday, Mom whirled us away on a surprise trip to the beach, then there was a huge thunderstorm when we got back- no computer! And I had even managed to get Mom to agree to letting me on and everything... Then, Saturday- when the power finally came back on- Mom and Dad decided that we were going to visit Grandma for a night (nobody tells me anything! ) and that's 6 hrs away... And I just got back. So here. (sheepish smile) Sorry about that. Tuesday- unless Something Up There decides elsewise- I will post again. Really. _

_Disclaimer: Not Tamora Pierce. Not my Isles. Not my characters, except Cyne, Brand, Merle, and siblings. _

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_Chapter Nine_

_Searching_

_September 30__th__ 480 H.E. _

Merle's swift fingers flipped through the list of mages in the Copper Isles. She was in her mother's office; technically, she was allowed in. She had her own set of keys. But those were meant for when her ma wanted her to get something, even though she had snuck in more than once. Occasionally, when she couldn't sleep, Merle would sneak in to read. But tonight she had a purpose.

Cyne had insisted that the culprit did not have to be a mage, but Merle didn't know where else to start. Maybe, if she started instead of sitting with her friends, throwing out half-hearted theories and being in general awe of the enormous task ahead of them, _something _would make sense.

Groaning softly, she paused for a moment to rub her tired eyes. Though she had a small Sight, a power to see magic, Merle valued her ability to recollect every detail of a scene in her mind as if it were a tapestry lying before her. A picture memory, her ma had called it. And, for a spy, it had endless use. However, using it so often- to memorize every single page in an extensive list- made her eyes burn and head ache.

She reopened her eyes and continued determinedly, wanting to get this done by the end of the night. One after another, she pulled them out of the pile and stared at them for a moment.

How many damned mages could there be in such a small group of islands? Scowling, she dug through the papers doggedly, hoping she wouldn't pass out or throw up. Her head pounded inside her skull. Biting her lip, she forced herself to continue.

Finally, Merle finished with a relieved sigh, neatly stacking the pieces of parchment. She put them exactly as they had been. Then she crept out of her mother's office, closed and locked the door, and slipped away with a guilty expression on her face.

The next afternoon, a very tired but triumphant Merle strode into Brand's parlor, where both he and Cyne sat with depressed looks.

"Hello!" she greeted them cheerfully. "My goodness, don't you two seem to be at the bottom of a pit with snakes surrounding you and no way out?" Her friends stirred. Cyne's bright eyes narrowed suspiciously, but it was Brand who spoke.

"What do you have?" Merle chuckled; they knew her too well. Then, with an elaborate flourish, she displayed several pieces of parchment.

"A list," she replied grandly. "-of all mages in Rajmuat, which yours truly wrote down for your benefit last night." Brand took one look at the long list in Merle's very small handwriting and shuddered visibly.

"You didn't have to be so generous," he muttered. Even Cyne seemed momentarily dismayed. "It might not even be a mage," Brand continued. Merle's grin became smug as she watched her daunted friend.

"Alright," Cyne finally interrupted their silence with. Her intelligent green eyes fixed on Merle, who grinned even wider; by the look on Cyne's face- and in her eyes, which were only so green without one hint of blue when she was very focused- she had caught on. "-as much as we both enjoy watching Brand squirm, it's time to tell us your idea which, if I'm correct, will make that mess-" She gestured at the papers. "-much easier to wade through." Merle beamed at her friends, one of which was calming down with a suspicious and resentful glare in his eyes.

"I've marked down the mages who are also priests. Or priestesses." Cyne's eyes gleamed with comprehension. "This concerns gods, and they know gods the best. One of them might have an idea of who or even what we're looking for-"

"And I know exactly where to start," Cyne declared, reaching for the list. "-the servants of Mithros and the Goddess."

* * *

"Hey," Brand said slowly, finger stopping at a particular name on the list. Then he looked up at the girls. "Hey! 'Hey' as in look here!" Both Merle and Cyne looked up from their own piles, only giving him half their attention. "This name's familiar! This man, here-" They leaned over where he was pointing. "Goddard Theon, head of the Court of Mithros, here in the Isles. He was- a man that served the Rittevons and Jimagens until it was clear that the raka had won." 

"Troublemaker?" Cyne asked the two of them, shifting in her seat.

"I heard Da talking about him once," Brand said slowly. "He said that he had nothing against Mithros, but that if he could pin something on Theon-"

"-he'd be in shackles within the hour," Merle finished, nodding grimly. "Mama's ranted enough about that."

"Why?"

"He's known for his cruelty for his… _instruction _of the raka during King Oron's reign." Cyne's face darkened.

"He ordered deaths, didn't he?" she asked, face grim. "If they refused to worship Mithros and reject Kyprioth?"

"Yeah." Brand crossed his arms and glared down. "Causing trouble for Kyprioth- the raka God- wouldn't be something Theon would argue against."

"Let's start there, then," Merle said, voice deceptively light. All three of them stood in unison. "We'll ask for a guard, and a ride through the city."

"We might as well tell our parents what we're up to," Brand said, stretching.

"I wouldn't suggest it," Cyne said grimly. "I tried to talk with Aunt Dove-" She grimaced. "It isn't a nice feeling. Like having your throat ripped out when you try to speak." Merle winced, and Brand made a face.

"Why would it matter if we told?" Brand wondered.

"Well, I know that my Ma would want to hunt him down, no matter where he went," Merle remarked dryly. "She told me about how furious _her _da was, and how angry she'd be if he ever appeared to me."

"She was just tempting fate there, saying that," Cyne muttered. "I bet after Kyprioth heard that, he started counting the days until he could appear to you and start messing with your future. You two jinx your futures enough to curse the whole damn palace." She sighed, then added as an afterthought, "and I had to get stuck with you." Merle shrugged.

"My family seems to have a remarkable legacy," she commented. "I blame my grandmother for starting it. She _is_ the King's Champion of Tortall." Cyne froze.

"_What?_" She and Brand whipped around on their friend, who was blushing.

"Alanna the Lioness?" Brand demanded. "_The _Alanna the Lioness?"

"I don't think there's another," Merle muttered. Then she glared at them.

"Anything else either of you want to mention?" Cyne asked, shocked. "Parents who are spies, a father who is- was- a bird, a champion for a-"

"I think that's about it," Merle said, then grinned. "Goddess, you have a lot to live up to. Companions with such great relations; you're just going to have to make up your own legacy." Cyne shook her head.

"I'd rather just live out my life without stepping into the light, thank you very much."

"I don't think we're the ones who make that choice," Brand said grimly, then walked over to where his cloak hung on the wall. "Get your things. It would be better if no one knew. Then we won't have to think of an excuse for going."

* * *

The trio jogged up the stairs of the huge building self-consciously. The enormous temple to Mithros had a stature of the god, a large sun at his back, in front of the entrance. Brand eyed the solemn face apprehensively. 

"Do you think he had a servant steal his brother's amulet for revenge?"

"For the stories I've heard," Cyne commented wryly. "-they're more zealous with vengeance than even us hot-headed mortals." Wincing, Brand made the Sign Against Evil across his chest. The two of them looked at Merle, who studied the statue intently.

"He looks in need of a good laugh," she said critically. "I don't think I could devote my life to worshipping someone so… grim."

"And that would be a bit of your mother speaking out within you," a bright voice said behind them. They leapt and spun around. Kyprioth gleamed white in Merle's dim Sight; a sign of godhood. "You'll have to be careful, my dear, with traits of your grandmother _and _mother. The two of them never got along. I should think that you will have quite the conflicting personality. Your suitors will never be able to keep up." He flipped a coin up into the air nonchalantly.

"Suitors?" Merle snorted. "Mm-hmm. Very likely."

"Of course," the god agreed politely. "With your loveliness-" Merle flushed, embarrassed but pleased that a god would compliment her. "-I have no doubts that-"

"Flatterer," Cyne muttered, cutting in. "I _am_ thankful that you did not make me kneel in worship, this time, though. That would be uncomfortable on these marble stairs, and people would stare oddly at me."

"And you despise attention." The trickster chuckled. "And I am afraid that you will always get it." She ignored this; she meant to take advantage of the moment.

"But we wanted to know, what exactly is this amulet?"

"You know," Kyprioth continued, stroking her peppered beard as he completely avoided Cyne's question. "I had wanted Aly to melt down those statues, but she didn't listen. She really is terrible, that way." He winked at Brand. "Probably in the same way these lasses never listen to anything _you _say."

"We listen," Merle protested, then grinned. "Every once in awhile. That doesn't mean we have to _do _anything that he tells us to do." Cyne bit her lip. For Merle, it seemed almost unnatural not to relax in this Great God's company; there was something open and welcoming about his manner that made her almost forget who he was. And Brand was just Brand. But Cyne, a serious and observant girl with the blood of the Isles' line of queens coursing through her, could not even attempt to forget. She was uncomfortably aware of his power, even as she boldly crossed her arms and glared at him.

"What does the amulet do?" she demanded. Kyprioth gave no sign that he heard her; he was still chuckling at Merle's words. Then he straightened.

"I really must go, my dears," he suddenly said. "And you ought to hurry. You're in the right place at the right time. No one except Theon and a guest in there now. Hurry-" And then he was gone. For a moment, Cyne just stared at the spot that the god had stood. He had ignored her the entire time! She was tempted to start cursing him where she stood. But then she remembered his parting words.

"C'mon," she growled, turning and running up the rest of the stairs, Brand and Merle following.

The temple was simple, with only an altar in the center of the rectangular room, pillars surrounding the place where people would sit and pray. Cyne slipped through the doors and crept into the shadows of a pillar, able to hear the echoing voices clearly in the otherwise silent room. Quietly, Brand moved to her side; Merle walked over to the column next to theirs. Then all three listened intently to the voices.

"Pay up!" someone was demanding. "My servant did what was-"

"Not until the amulet is in my possession!" another barked. The three stilled at the mention of what they were seeking. And Cyne frowned; she refused to believe any task a god set up could be so easy.

"Do you know what that can-"

"I don't think I would have asked for your help if I hadn't," the second man hissed. "I know you want-"

"Kyprioth shall pay, even if-"

"He will pay." Breathlessly, the youths leaned over; the voices were coming from near the altar.

_I'm going to look,_ Cyne signaled. Before the others could protest, she edged around the pillar and ducked behind a pew in the darkened room. A moment later, Merle joined her.

_The fat one is Theon, _she told Cyne. Nodding to show she understood, the girl peered through a crack in the wood.

Two men stood by the altar. Both were of middle height, but one, dressed in the distinctive robes of a priest of Mithros, was certainly rounder around the middle. He was balding, and completely luarin. The other had long black hair and a beard that hung straight down to his chest. His body was lean and clearly muscular, and, when he moved, it was slow and calculated, as though he had thought it over for months. He had a darker skin tone that made Cyne think he was a part-blood, though certainly not a full blood raka.

"I will have the Jaguar Amulet," the bearded one whispered. Both girls clasped their hands over their mouths as he jerked a dagger out of his robes and held it at Theon's throat. "Give it."

"Now- now," Theon stuttered. "Let's- let's be reasonable, sir, you and I both being priests, surely-"

_The dirty little toad, _Cyne found herself thinking in disgust. _First sign of danger… and he decides he _is _open to negotiation. _

"Let's," the man agreed pleasantly. "Give it to me now."

"I- I don't have it."

"Liar." The voice was cold and flat. "I will give you three seconds. One-"

Instantly, the Mithran priest placed something small in the other man's outstretched hand.

"Thank you," the man said politely. Then Cyne barely managed to stifle a scream as the man struck out at Theon with the gleaming knife. The Mithran priest crumpled as his attacker turned away and strode towards the horrified trio. Both girls swiftly slid underneath the bench, scarcely breathing as the man's footsteps resounded harshly against the cold floor. Cyne gritted her teeth in frustration.

The man was going to get away, with whatever it was, and there was nothing she could do about it!

She banged her head against the wood above her when a yell broke the tedious silence. The umistakable sound of Brand cursing reached the girls' ears.

"Brand!" Merle shrieked, crawling out from underneath the bench as fast as she could. Cyne swore, clutching her head as she followed Merle.

Brand and the man were scuffling on the floor; it did not take long for the part-raka to pin the boy to the floor. But Merle rushed up from behind and threw her weight on the man, forcing him to the side. Swiftly recovering from her moment of pain, Cyne grabbed Brand and ripped him out of his attacker's failing grip before diving on the knife and moving away. The man tried to grab Merle, but the girl was too quick; she kicked out at him and backed into Brand, who held her tightly as they eyed the man warily.

The man looked from the pair to Cyne's steady, warning gaze as she brandished his weapon. She trembled, praying that he could not see her weakness. She doubted she could protect herself adequately or attack him, even if she had to... Then the part-raka spat and ran off towards the opposite at the other end of the temple. Merle slid out of Brand's hands and sprinted after the fleeing figure, down the aisle and around the altar. Brand followed after a moment's indecision.

Cyne did not wait another second; she sprinted after the other three, but stopped at the altar and Goddard Theon's body. She grabbed his wrist and felt for his pulse.

He was dying, that was certain-

She closed her eyes and called up her Gift. If she did not save him, they would lose the amulet, and still have no answers.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed and read again, and thanks to those who are about to do so, too! (Did that make sense...?) Aaaaaaaanyway... hope you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10: Hints

_A/N: HA HA! (triumphant leap onto invisible, pretend stage) I'm on time!_

_And, fyi, Kyrie, I locked Avar **out** of his metaphorical closet! Muhaha!_

_Thanks to **LionessQueen**, **PieofDoomeh**, **Dream Ablaze **(for her _many _reviews! Kudos to you! And the rest of you, who have been here the whole time, of course-), **DarkingGirl**, and **KyrieofAccender**, my beta! And thanks to those who reviewed chapters 7 and 8- **PieofDoomeh**,** Ginastar**,** Lady Muck**,** fairydust000**,** DarkingGirl**,** Princess Solaria**,** LionessQueen**,** and Dream Ablaze**! (I was a little frazzled before to mention you- whoops.)_

_Disclaimer: I just wrote the disclaimer to this... it went 'poof'! Oh well. I'm not Tamora Pierce, in or out of disguise, and only a few characters and the messes they make are mine. _

_Oh dear. I suppose that means I gotta clean those up, too..._

* * *

_Chapter Ten _

_Hints and Hopes_

Merle thrust herself through the crowd, gaining some amused and some bewildered gazes. She had eyes only for the fleeing figure.

_He's pretty spry for a priest, _she thought bitterly as one woman started yelling at her. She side-stepped a group of men and rushed past a group of children.

"Sorry!" she yelled back over her shoulder to the market square in general. She had lost Brand a while back; she didn't know where he could be. She followed her quarry determinedly, ducking underneath canopies and hiking over counters.

"Hey! Girl!" She swore as she slipped; as she had been trained, she fell into a somersault and flipped back onto her feet before continuing the chase. She allowed herself a small smile as she heard an appreciative cheer and some clapping.

The man's black and gold robes were unusual, and since there was still quite a lot of light in the city, it was easy to keep track of him.

As she saw him cut down an alley, she was forced to leap back from a cart whose driver seemed determined to mow down as many people as possible. As the horse reared, she took a chance and ducked underneath the flailing hooves. Deaf to the screams from women nearby and the curses of the driver of the cart, Merle ran into the alleyway and into another marketplace, stopping at the mouth of the alley to look around, gasping for breath.

She swore breathlessly as she tried to catch her wind. He was nowhere to be seen. Merle tapped the shoulder of a women selling biscuits right on the edge of the square.

"Have you seen a man, wearing black and gold?" she asked. "A few moments ago?" The woman frowned.

"I did, as a matter o' fact. He was in a right hurry, he was. I didn't see which way he went-" Groaning, Merle stepped onto a box and scanned the crowd. "Hey! That's me-"

"Where did he go? Did you see?" She saw the woman shake her head out of the corner of her eyes. She sighed heavily, then leapt off of the box. She had lost him.

"Why? He a friend of yours?"

"Just the- um… yes," Merle said, deciding that the truth might not be best. "Have you seen him before? It's necessary that I find him." She turned her pleading eyes to the woman, who seemed to have decided to mull over it.

"Hmm…. I have, yes. He buys from me, sometimes."

"Really?" Merle gasped.

"Would I say so if it weren't true?" She smiled benevolently at the girl. "Why you have to find him?"

"He gave me something," she lied quickly. "He's an old friend of the family, and I wanted to give it back. And-" She looked away sheepishly. "He- his son. I wanted to see him again…." The woman chuckled.

"Ah. Young love, hmm?" Merle bit her lip and nodded, feigning embarrassment.

"I- I haven't see him in awhile," she said softly, warming up to the topic. "Last time-" She hastily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I- I just hope he hasn't forgotten me," she murmured.

"I'm sure he hasn't, lass," the woman said comfortingly. "Not with your looks, I'll warrant." She blushed.

"Thank you."

"The name's Mistress Koel, by the way. But you can call me Edna, dearie."

"Thanks."

"Hope you find 'im," Edna replied cheerfully. "Now, off with you, lass." Merle nodded and walked away.

* * *

Brand had lost Merle's bright head of hair almost the moment he had descended the steps of the temple, but he had continued running. Eventually, he gave up. He despised running about. Fortunately, Merle did not mind dashing about in the palace; that meant she took all the messenger jobs, while he and Cyne would take the sensible desk work. 

But now he was hot, tired, out of breath, and- worst of all- lost. And he would have to be stupid to forget the last time they had ventured out at dusk. Trying to ignore the doubts in his head, Brand wandered about-

-and passed right by their man, walking in the opposite direction.

For a moment, he froze, flabbergasted. Several people right behind him started cursing, but he did not care. Swiftly, he strode to the side, by the booths, where he would not be as easily seen. Then he turned around carefully.

The man walked directly down the middle of the street, obviously unconcerned with his surroundings.

_He must have lost Merle. _Brand resolved to buy flowers and incense for every trickster in the Divine Realms for this bit of luck. Incredulously, he stealthily followed the black-and-gold robe, weaving through the crowd as casually as he could.

When the man stopped and entered a building, the youth stared in astonishment.

_Of course. _

This made sense.

And it made even more sense in connection with the conversation before the man that had just disappeared and Theon.

Sliding into the shadows by the building, Brand crept to the door for what promised to be an informative few minutes.

* * *

Cyne gave Theon a water skein she had found on the altar and patiently watched as he drained the contents. She could only hope Mithros would not mind; after all, she _was _saving the life of his priest. 

"No," she said quickly when he tried to sit up. "Stay. There." She looked over the stomach wound critically. "You should live." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mithros bless you, child. He tried to kill me," he said, a tinge of disbelief in his voice.

"Who?" she prompted softly, knowing he was still muddled from the healing and that the chance to question him would not last long. He would tell her information now that he would never reveal in any other case. The old man shook his head softly. Lowering her voice, Cyne leaned in towards him. "What did he take?" she asked crisply, in a voice that invited confidence. Then she started and tried to back away as Theon grasped her hand and held it tightly. A wild light came into his brown eyes, which, a moment ago, had been foggy and dull from the healing.

"I- I see my mistake, now," he suddenly gasped. He dragged Cyne down towards him in a viselike grip. "Listen to me," he ordered hoarsely. Cyne tried to pull free, but only succeeded in forcing Theon to hold her tighter. She winced in pain.

"What?" she growled from behind clenched teeth. For a dying man, he had a rather strong hold.

"The Jaguar Goddess," he whispered. Forgetting her pain, Cyne felt a thrill rush through her. She sensed that she was close to finding the answers she needed. "She-" Then he inhaled sharply and sat up, a hand on his wound.

"Lay down!" she ordered, off-balance from his sudden movement. If he did not relax, he would lose more blood and maybe die- She could feel his grip on life slipping; the feeling made her sick and dizzy...

He did not give her a second to recover, and only jerked her around so that they were face-to-face.

"No, young lady." He smiled watery. "I am meant to die now. But stop the Jaguar Goddess. Mithros decrees it." Cyne was not sure if he meant his god condemned this goddess, or if the Sun God wanted Theon to pass on into the Peaceful Realms. His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. "Her priests. They need to release her from the prison that damned Trickster put her in."

"Kyprioth?" Cyne asked in a hushed voice. "He- he put her- where did he put her?" The answer was so soft, she had to lean over an inch from his mouth, braid dangling down to touch his chest.

"In a guarded temple, in the jungles of the island of-" Gasping, the man released Cyne, who fell to the side, away from him. "The map," were his last words in a louder, strangled voice. Then he fell to the floor and his eyes fell closed.

Trembling, Cyne watched the body for a long moment, half expecting him to wake.

But he was dead, with the parting words of "the map" to a complete stranger-

The map. Pushing her long black hair back, Cyne reached for the inner pockets of the man's robe, trying to ignore a small voice that told her she was looting a body of a Mithran priest. At least his eyes weren't open; she did not think she would dare touch him if they were.

_He told me about a map… and how am I supposed to know where it is? From his words, it would most likely be with him- _

A moment later, her tentative work rewarded her. With a relieved sigh- she was glad she had not searched him for nothing- Cyne pulled an old, folded bit of leathery parchment out of a pocket. Kneeling down next to Theon, she began to unfold the paper.

"What the- Mithros!" Cyne jerked her head up to see several shocked priests. _Damn. _"Goddard!"

"Wretch!" another howled, pointing at the shocked girl. Curses ran through her mind as she watched them, as if in slow-motion, head towards her. _Damn-damn-damn-_

"Thief!" Faster than she- and the men- would have thought possible, Cyne thrust herself from her spot next to the dead man and sprinted for the door. As she passed the statue of Mithros outside, she heard another cry.

"Murderer!"

"She killed Theon!"

"Kill her!"

_And these are priests, _she thought bitterly as she jumped down the steps at least four at a time. _Aren't they supposed to be above revenge? _

Apparently not.

With roars and yells, the younger men ran out of the temple, but Cyne was already rushing through the market. It was dusk, and she blended in with the many raka easily. With a grim, confident smile, she pocketed the piece of paper and strode back towards the palace as swiftly as she could.

* * *

Brand staggered silently towards the Guard's checkpoint. As soon as he reached them, he fell to his knees. With a glance and a nod at her companions, one of them- a part-raka woman- approached him. 

"Are y' alright?" she asked kindly, placing a hand on his shoulder, a dagger in the other hand in case the youth decided to be unfriendly.

"I'm- Sibigat's son," he gasped, feeling exhaustion nipping at his consciousness. "Take me- bring me- palace-" Then his eyelids fell and his tightened muscles relaxed in a dead faint.

* * *

Merle was already back and changed when Cyne knocked on her door. Her eyes accessed her friend quickly. When she was sure Cyne was fine, Merle asked the question that was on both of their minds. 

"Have you seen Brand?"

"Not since he took off after you." Merle winced.

"I lost him. Or, rather, he lost me." She bit her lip.

"He's fine," Cyne said confidently, seeing Merle's silent worry. "He's probably- somehow, in his waywardly Brand way- found out more than even I have." Merle perked up.

"You found something?" Wordlessly, Cyne took out the map and unfolded it. "Put it on the desk," Merle ordered, quickly pulling up a second chair for her friend.

"I haven't looked at it yet," Cyne said as she obeyed. Then they both eagerly poured over the large paper.

* * *

The half-raka woman sent a messenger up to the palace about the youth who had collapsed by her station. He was delirious, and hurt- a huge gash ran across his chest. Grimly, she applied the last of her special salve- a gift from a rich lover- to the wound. 

_It seems Garen had his uses after all, _she thought wryly. The salve instantly stopped the bleeding and helped mend the cut. _His gift just might have saved this lad's life. _

A flicker of white light caught her attention; she turned and gasped. Swiftly, she fell to her knees and touched her head to the ground. She grit her teeth; a Great God, indeed. She would not bow before him, if she had a choice. But she did not….

"Great God," she breathed. "I-"

"No," the deep voice boomed. "This will not do, not at all." He pointed at the unconscious Brand. "I need the boy." The woman frowned.

"But- he-"

"I need him," the voice cut in harshly. "And not a word to another god of it."

"Of course not, Great One," she assured him hastily, but he frowned.

"I do not believe you." Her eyes widened.

"No, Great Lord, I-" He raised her hand; she crumpled to the ground. Then the god crossed the space between him and the youth. He stared emotionlessly at him for a moment. "You are the last piece to the puzzle," he declared. "Your power- your knowledge-" Then his eyes glinted and, with a wave of a hand, both he and Brand disappeared.

* * *

A/N: What is on the map? What does Brand know? How'd he get hurt? Who- who indeed- is this god? (Do I even know?) Guesses, people? 

Maybe I'll be really evil and give you another chapter… a really short one. Nothing about Brand or the map in it…. Hmm…. Now _that's _a definite possibility. Actually, I REALLY like that idea. (very loud, evil laugh)

But you're all very welcome to try and convince me otherwise.


	11. Chapter 11: Dreams of Darkness Unfold

_Disclaimer: Not Tamora Pierce. I am borrowing characters and settings. _

_A/N: Hello, all! I **had **written ch 11 with the intention of leaving off without a word from Brand... but then I decided to combine ch11 and 12 to make a rather long chappie, but it doesn't leave off... as much. I think. You'll see what I mean after you read..._

_Thanks to **LionessQueen**, **Dream Ablaze**, **Lady Muck**, and **PieofDoomeh** for their reviews. And thanks as always to my wonderful beta. Write, Kyrie, write!_

* * *

_Chapter Eleven_

_Dreams of Darkness Unfold _

Cyne yawned and glanced over at Merle, sleeping in her chair. She smiled wearily. Her friend had been tired from running about Rajmuat; she was tired, too. Even with her growing powers, healing was exhausting, especially when the one being healed was so near to death….

Death….

Death….

Cyne could feel the word surrounding her as she felt herself fall asleep. She nearly jolted awake as she brushed the dream world, but the tempting call finally lured the girl into surrendering to the darkness.

_Water…. Cyne looked up and around peacefully. _

_"I've been here before," she realized, surprised. "But I didn't know why-" For a spilt second, another scene flashed before her. _

_For a moment, she was in an enormous hall, empty except for one. A huge, hooded figure- one that reminded her of Kyprioth for some inexplicable reason- nodded at her. _

_"You have a mission," he said gravely, then inclined his head to look up. Cyne followed his gaze-_

_-and found herself back in the underwater world, looking towards the surface. Suddenly understanding, the girl swam upwards, pushing her body towards the light-_

_Something cold, dark, and slimy touched her ankle. As she looked down, she saw the pale face of Theon, staring blindly at her. Shocked, she stared as he dragged her back down, towards the darkness. _

_Then the darkening water swarmed her senses again, and the dead body was no longer Cyne's first worry. The black liquid entered her mouth, choked her screams, and gripped her mind grimly, determined that, this time, she would not-_

Cyne's eyes snapped open. She was breathing heavily, face pressed up against the desk. Confused, she slowly sat up, running a hand through her hair.

She was in Merle's parlor. _Why _was she in-

Then she remembered. The map. The trip through Rajmuat. The wager.

Goddard Theon. She shuddered.

"Something wrong, dear?" Bleary-eyed, Cyne looked up to see Kyprioth. He nodded at the sleeping Merle. "You ought to be resting, like this one. She's so tired, it would take nothing less than a herd of hurroks to wake her. Maybe even then we'd have to throw in some killer centaurs."

"Hmm," Cyne groaned. "I dunno why, but sleeping isn't very appealing, right now." An expression almost like concern on his face, the Trickster lifted his eyebrows.

"Having a dispute with Gainel?"

"Hmm?"

"My brother. The dream god." The girl wiped sleep from her eyes, then grimaced.

"I hope not. I can't remember."

"Ah." Kyprioth watched her intently. "That must be it, then. Don't trouble yourself. I'll pop in and have a chat with him myself. Tell him I don't like it when my wagers are offset by lack of sleep; it always feels like I've cheated."

"Have fun." Then her eyes narrowed; she remembered that the god had some explaining to do.

"Uh-oh." Kyprioth grinned cheekily and waved ironically in her direction. "You're waking up a bit. I'll be seeing-"

"Who's the Jaguar Goddess?" Cyne demanded, eyeing him. The god froze. She continued, "You locked her up somewhere. And now-"

"And now her little minions are trying to free her," Kyprioth muttered. "So you've heard?" Cyne watched him levelly.

"From a dead man," she replied evenly. He waved a careless hand in her direction.

"Goddard Theon was a pain in my rear," he retorted cheerfully. "The new lad's a bit sharper, and he likes the raka. He won't start raving when they ask for charity, the poor people in the city. The sooner he starts, the better." Then a wicked smile crossed his face. "But you'd best make sure you don't meet him. He got a good eyeful of you when he ran into you thieving off of his beloved master's body." Cyne gasped, stomach sinking.

"I did not- he told me-"

"Of course, of course. But no one except we select few knows that, my dear."

"And where's Brand?" she asked quickly, trying to ignore a new, nasty feeling welling up inside of her. The god snorted.

"Just fine. He got a good eyeful of useful information, I'll tell you that."

"How is he?"

"Fine, last I saw." Cyne glared at him for a long moment. He stared back indignantly. "What?" She said nothing, and he sighed. "Alright. I will go and bring him back to his nice, warm bed. You women types are always worrying," he muttered, shaking his head. "Try to get some sleep in there between all those thoughts, m'dear." Then he disappeared. Cyne rolled her eyes.

"And you god types are always popping up where they aren't wanted," she muttered before adjusting her body into a more comfortable position and closing her eyes tiredly.

* * *

Brand woke, but he kept his eyes closed. There was no urgent reason to sit up- Yawning widely, he stretched lazily. He did not hear any birds chirping, which was odd, since the sun was certainly shining brightly. And _that _was odd in itself; the window in his room faced the north, and there was _never _such bright rays- 

Cracking an eyelid open, Brand sneaked a peek at his surroundings. Then he leapt up with a rather loud yelp. Now very wide awake, he stared around in alarm.

He was in an enormous, circular room, with carved ivory and marble walls, decorated with trimmings of gold, silver, and other precious metals. Along the walls were countless thrones, and the floor on which the youth had been sleeping glowed a steady white light. Though the surface was smooth when he ran a hand along it, the floor was softer than his mattress at home.

_Not that it would have taken much for me to sleep, _he reflected. _I was exhausted- _

The chase through Rajmuat's streets, running into the man they had been searching for, tailing him through the marketplaces of the evening, spying on _them _in the-

Images flashed through Brand's mind, and he unsteadily rose to his feet. He needed to get of here, wherever _here _was-

A silvery mist gathered and began to thicken in front of his feet. Bemused, the fifteen-year-old boy watched until, suddenly, a badger appeared right before his very eyes. The animal almost seemed to scowl at him.

_Good. You're awake. _The voice was unmistakably male. And, even more disturbing than the fact that Brand was uncomfortably aware that he had heard the voice in his head, not with his ears, was the fact that the voice seemed to be coming _from _the badger. Open-mouthed, the boy stared at the creature. _Sit back down. The journey will have weakened you. You don't know the full repercussions yet. I wouldn't be surprised if- when Sarra gets ahold of you- you're in bed for a week, at least. Besides, on top of that, your mortal body has not healed completely from those wounds. _When he did not move, the badger huffed and, rising on his hind legs, put a heavy paw on the youth's shoulder, forcing him back down to the floor. The badger snorted. _Well, aren't you just the chatty one? I hear they usually can't shut you up down there. _

"I'm going mad," he muttered, instantly making up for the lack of speech. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, what with Merle's da being a crow and all, but I am. But if that's true, I dunno why a badger can't talk-" Brand scowled, biting his lip. "Hang on," he said indignantly, though the creature next to him said nothing. "I-"

He fell silent again. The creature had to be a god- he had the same sense of power that Brand had come to associate with Kyprioth, though this sensation was not as strong and overwhelming. There was no possible reason _why _a badger god could not speak, and thus it-he- _should _be able to speak-

Then again, he had never seen a badger before. He did not even know how he had recognized the animal before him as one.

"I suppose the whole lot o' you might be able to talk, for all I know," he mused. The badger gave him an odd look. "Umm…," he tried again, attempting to collect his scattered thoughts. "-where am I?"

"The court of the gods," another deep voice answered aloud from behind him. Brand whirled around.

A huge, dark-skinned man wearing gold armor and a kilted white tunic stood before him. A stern look in his face, his eyes were hard and his jaw firm. Shock came back over Brand as the boy knelt before Mithros, the Sun God.

"Oh gods," he whispered as he recalled his wager with Kyprioth, and his history lessons. The Trickster and his great brother and sister did not get along very well.

_Just two, _the badger said wickedly, plodding over so that Brand could see him. _I must say, Sun Lord… I was dismayed. First, he didn't talk at all. Then, when he did, I was rather disappointed. All I got was incoherent babbling! _

"Hmm." The knowing black eyes of the stern Mithros looked over Brand carefully, like a prospective buyer inspecting a horse. "And what does my great sister think?" A meow from Brand's right side made him jump and look down swiftly. A small, black cat at his feet nuzzled him. When he put a cautious hand down to pet it, the cat looked up and Brand felt his eyes widen. The cat's eyes were an amethyst violet.

"Is-is that-" Brand swallowed. "-the Goddess?"

_No, _the badger sounded sniffy, but amused. _He is a friend. _Ignoring the exchange, the cat continued to stare at Brand seriously. Then he licked the boy's extended hand and brushed a furry cheek against it. Then he turned to dash away towards a silver, backless throne. When he reached it, the cat leapt up with fluid grace to curl up on the seat. Audible purring rang through the room.

"I see." Brand's attention snapped back to the god before him. Mithros exhaled heavily. "So be it, then-"

A flash of heat and light rose the hairs on the back of Brand's neck. Before he could blink, let alone jump back, Kyprioth was among them.

"_What the blazes do you want?_" he roared at his brother. Wincing, the mortal boy clapped his hands over his ears. He could feel them bleeding. "Give me the boy! I need him! Do you know what's happened down-"

"I was going to ask you the same, brother," Mithros replied coldly, staring at his livid sibling. "What is going on? I have felt the tremor here, even in the halls of the gods." He inclined his head gravely, then gestured towards a simple copper throne with two sitting jaguars carved as armrests. "She is awakening, is she not?" Brand silently watched the Trickster god, whose face darkened sullenly.

"She remembers the Isles as they once were, more vividly than ever before," he admitted quietly. "There is a reason that a raka _queen _reigns in my land; _she _once ruled them alone. And she wants to rule once more." To Brand's surprise, Mithros did not seem pleased, either.

"This is trouble," he said lowly. Kyprioth's head snapped up to stare at the Sun God. A very small smile crossed the dark god's stern face. "Brother, we remember her as well as you do. She was _worse _than you, though even my memory fails to explain how that is possible." The Trickster glared at the other god suspiciously.

"You will not get in my way, then?" Mithros's jaw set.

"Brother, both our Great Sister and I will do more than stay out of the way. We shall _help_." Then he nodded at the stunned Brand. "I could not find you, my brother, but I _could _find him. And I knew that you would follow. We must speak."

"Very clever," Kyprioth retorted. "But really, it's past his bedtime. And-" He winked at the youth. "Certain young ladies are worried. If you don't show up soon, they might hunt me down and actually make me regret it. They are rather fierce... gentlewomen. Their parents- and grandparents-" he added, his lips twisting wryly. "-would be proud. Mother Flame and Father Universe help you if you cross them, my boy." He chuckled, then snapped his fingers. "I shall see you soon enough, Brand. Remember, we cannot hunt down these priests ourselves. We can do nothing but bind _her_. The rest is up to you."

The hall of the gods disappeared in a whirl of color. The last thing Brand heard was the voice of the badger.

_Now, don't make him sick, you big showing-offing oaf-_

Then he fell into darkness.

* * *

"So," Cyne whispered softly as Merle yawned. She had been unable to sleep after Kyprioth's visit, between worrying about Brand and wondering what he knew. Finally, she had waken her friend so that they could both worry and wonder. "The map is-" 

"Shut it about the map," Merle ordered wearily. "I'm tired. I don't want to be tired. I want to go to sleep, as difficult as that may be to comprehend." Both girls whipped around as the door burst open. Then they gasped in relief when Brand- exhausted, ragged, and filthy- staggered in.

"You're alright!" Cyne instantly went over to him and hugged him tightly. Startled by the outbreak of affection, he looked over the girl's shoulder at Merle and grinned.

"Do you suppose some fine court ladies might start embracing me if I go like this into the ballroom late?"

"More likely they'd scream and beat you with their shuskens," Merle retorted, pushing herself up from her chair. With an origin in the Yamani Islands, shuskens were bladed fans that many young women carried around now. "Welcome back, mate," she said, making the last word as mocking as possible. "Don't suppose you might have some information from that long jaunt of yours?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied, just as casually as his redheaded friend.

"What did you find?" Cyne pulled away just as Brand put an arm around her. She calmly flung it off.

"Well…." He smiled smugly. "What did you find? Assuming, of course-" His grin broadened. "-that you managed to find something."

"Of course we did!" Merle answered hotly. "You arrogant little-"

"In case you haven't noticed… you aren't the tallest, anymore," Brand told her. "I-" It was apparent to Cyne that he had decided he was not revealing his secrets first. She sighed. _Boys and theatrics. _Why _must the two go together?_

"Sit down and listen to what we've found," she ordered. She was too tired and too eager to exchange information to listen to tiresome squabbling. To her surprise, the boy obeyed, seating himself on the chair Merle had been sitting on by the desk. The girls exchanged a resigned glance. Swiftly, Cyne perched on the desk, making it clear that she was comfortable there so that Merle eased herself down into her friend's former chair without feeling guilty for taking the spot.

"What have you got?" Instead of speaking, raven-haired young woman pointed at the parchment in front of him.

"Malubesang Island," Merle filled in the silence with. "Southern most island, only a couple of day's sail from here."

"And… what's that?" His finger tapped a small symbol close to the coast.

"We don't know," Cyne admitted. "I think it's a cat. Whatever it shows, it isn't more than a half-a-day's ride from Hajiu Cove." Brushing Brand's fingers over to the side, she pointed at another spot.

"We looked at another map," Merle added. "-but there's nothing there but jungle. We want to look over Mama's diagrams tomor- today," she corrected herself. "Later on. Probably early morning."

"No need." Both girls looked at their friend. "I know what it is," Brand said softly. "This, here." His finger slid back up to the strange symbol. "I-" All three looked around in alarm as someone pounded loudly on the door.

"Oh… friggin' sh-" Brand shut up with a furious gesture from Cyne.

"You chatters!" someone accused from behind the heavy door. "I know this is a young woman's room, and I didn't bargain for loud talking all night! I've come to the capitol to relax, you hear me? Not listen in all night to distant voices-"

Sighing, Cyne turned to Merle and crossed her arms.

"Go on."

"It _is _your room," Brand pointed out, then bowed his friend grandly over to the scolding awaiting.

* * *

And you reading and/or reviewing types shall have to be content with that. I was going to end this chapter with Cyne and Kyprioth's conversation... but I asked my beta and then decided to combine ch 11 and 12. Lucky for you I felt bad about leaving off there... and now, instead, you have an extra long chappie. 

BTW, anyone know what song I stole the chapter title from?

Au revoir! Stay tuned for Chapter 12: Answers!


	12. Chapter 12: The Answer

_AN: Alrighty... What is on the map? will be answered... but more than that... I can't promise. You might just have to wait for more than that. Again. _

_This is revised, thanks to Lady Muck, who pointed out some atrocious errors... that might not be how you spell atrocious, btw..._

_Thanks to my beta- you deserve metaphorical cookies and tea- and my reviewers: **LionessQueen**, **PieofDoomeh**, **Lady Muck**, and **Kelusen**. Also, **Kelusen** has brought the fact that I have anonymous reviewers blocked... if I can figure out how to unblock, I will..._

Disclaimer: I'm not Tamora Pierce. The Copper Isles, Aly, Sibigat, Dove- and numerous others- are all hers. Not mine.

* * *

_Chapter 12_

_The Answer_

Though Merle managed to appease the middle-aged luarin, a traveler from the island of Malubesang, the noise- as slight as it had been- had been enough for whomever had been wandering the corridors at that absurd hour to go to find Lady Alianne. Cyne had not seen the woman in some time, but by the tired and cross scowl on the noble's face, now was _not _the time to catch up.

Without allowing them a word, Aly had sent them to their individual rooms, refusing to listen to a word they said and threatening to post a guard at each door to keep them in bed.

"Fine mood you're in, Mama," Merle had muttered. She was rewarded with a gentle but firm whack to the head.

"What else would I be in?" the woman asked crossly. "My daughter decides to get Lord Tajang in a tizzy when I had had to reassure him tonight-" Then she scowled and glared out the window. "-_last ­night… _that a well behaved young lass was in the next room, already sleeping-" She smacked her daughter's rump firmly. Merle yelped, but her mother just rolled her eyes. "Off to bed. Now. I expect you at lessons at the usual time." She walked out of the room, then stuck her head back in one more time. "_And _you have extra hand-to-hand combat tomorrow. A Shang warrior came with Lord Tajang's party. I have no intentions of wasting such valuable-" She searched for a word to express herself, then shook her head, deciding that she could think of a word in the morning, over breakfast. Sleep came first. "I will see you in the… in several hours." As the door slammed shut, Merle groaned.

"Just my luck," she told the ceiling. "And here I was, the one who wanted to go and sleep the whole time."

* * *

When the three saw each other, it was at their morning practice. The Shang Horse- a Yamani with an ungodly cheeriness- was in charge, and left them with scarcely enough breath to use their lungs, let alone speak. 

"My name is Hakuin Seastone," he had told them, inclining his head. "Aly had told me-" A innocently gleeful smile lit his face as the staff in his hands cracked to the ground. "-that you three need some thrashing to wake you up from a late night."

Groans escaped Brand's and Merle's lips, but Cyne watched the man quietly. Moaning loudly would not get her anywhere. Besides, her friends did enough for the three of them. Their instructor winked at her.

"Stodic lass, eh? You go first." He jerked his head towards the staffs waiting against the wall. "You two work drills 'til it's your turn to be trounced."

"Why did he have to have a sense of humor?" Brand asked the sky as Cyne obeyed. The dark-haired girl grasped a pole and, even before she turned around, Hakuin was on her. Swiftly recovering, she dropped and whipped her staff around, hoping to knock him off his feet. Instead- _of course,_ she thought disgustedly- he leapt over it and swung towards her head. She barely managed to get her stick up in time and the Shang warrior easily kicked her aside when she did. Though she rolled in the way they had been taught, when she came to a halt, she lay there, winded. Fighting the usual panic that rose when she found that she could not breath, she waited several moments, hoping her breath would return soon. The Shang Horse's cheerful face appeared, and she fought back a groan.

"You're fast… but inexperienced," he told her with a grin. "More inexperienced than I'd think of one with fifteen winters to her belt. Very quick to react, but not clever enough to prevent hits in the first place." Leaning down, he patted her on the shoulder. "You'll improve. Otherwise you'll have quite a lot of bruises by the end of the day." He turned and straightened. "You! You're next!"

"I'll pass, thanks," Cyne heard Brand answer. She rolled her eyes. Did her friend not understand that Hakuin had given him an order?

"Well, one of us has to go," Merle told him. "And it's not me." Slowly, Cyne sat up and brushed her hair and back off. Hakuin turned back to her.

"Oh, and wind your braid up," he ordered. "Always. It's too tempting- too easy- for an opponent to use as a handhold." Silently, she nodded and began securing her long black hair. It was going to be a long day.

It was a long,_ painful_ day with short breaks that were certainly not long enough, but Hakuin managed the intervals with such practiced ease so that they were exhausted to the point of collapsing, and yet- somehow-still managed to complete every task he set out for them. Merle and Brand- bigger and stronger from the extra practices that Dovasary had dragged her niece from- fared better than Cyne. Still, it was with shaky limbs and sweat that made Cyne want to bathe immediately that they trooped into the kitchens that evening. Except for Cyne's private- and sometimes, to her chagrin, public- meetings with Dove and other nobles, they preferred to eat there together, with the castle's staff, over any formal setting. However, that day, they were intercepted by Victorcine, a woman most knew as a secretary to the queen. Cyne and Brand knew better thanks to Merle; the luarin woman was one of the assistant spymasters under Lady Alianne as well as one of their many teachers. The woman smiled at them.

"Aly- your ma," she corrected herself quickly. "-wants you to help me file papers while you eat." Aghast, Brand stared at her.

"All of this for staying up a couple of hours and talking?" he asked in dismay.

"Is that what it was?" Victorcine queried dryly. "She didn't seem pleased."

"She's tired," Merle said, jumping to her mother's defense with a glare at Brand. "And we weren't _just _up late; we woke Lord Hanimar Tajang of Kilijen." The woman winced.

"That might just explain it. He was… testy.. last night, until she managed to assure him that his stay would be peaceful. _That _took a fine bit of work, let me tell you-" When she nodded in the direction of her office, adjacent to Aly's enormous study, the three youths obediently filed off up the stairs.

"Why is he here?" Merle asked, not bothering to mask the distaste in her voice. Cyne was glad that her friend had spoken up; Victorcine was one of the newer instructors, one she was not completely at ease with yet when they spoke. She was no longer as shy as she had once been, but the girl still preferred bringing the least amount of attention to herself as she could.

"He is a friend of the Malubesang govenor, one of the more conservative luarins. Many of the families that supported the Rittevons look to him, especially in matters of the state. And he's finally decided us worthy of visiting." Her lips twisted bitterly. "Useless lump. Except that he's got the attention of a bunch of hotheads, who could jump either way when it comes to fighting the Crown, and Aly and Sibigat are determined to jump first, if those blockheads decide their first leap is towards the queen." The cold, hash look in her eyes frightened Cyne a little, but she knew that Victorcine was in her position for good reasons. Merle had told her that after their first lesson with the brusque woman.

"And me and Brand are gonna be doing that someday," she had continued.

"Then I will, too," Cyne had decided before clapping her friend on the back. "Someone has to keep you folk outta trouble." For obvious reasons, they could not talk about the map while assisting Victorcine, and their task took the greater part of the evening.

"I swear she knows about our… trouble," Brand had grumbled once when Victorcine had crossed the room to look for a file on the riots in the last few years. "Merle, your mother knows. Kyprioth probably told her to make his difficult for us-"

After Vitorcine finally let them go, they fled to Merle's chambers before anyone else could accoast them.

"I swear," Brand muttered as he firmly shut the door behind them. "We're happy to stay, and they can never find a _thing _for us to do. But when it's punishment time-" He scowled and threw himself down in a chair only to jump back up and follow the girls over to the desk where the map was held down by several paperweights.

"Alright." Cyne pointed at the small cat near Hauji Cove. "What is that?" Brand sighed.

"Don't feel like explaining right now," he told them. Cyne's greenish-blue eyes narrowed. "Actually, I'm feeling rather hungry-" Merle grabbed him by the arm tightly as he made to walk away. "A joke!" he cried as she twisted his limb slightly. "Gods, leggo!" When she released him, he added, "I am starved, though-" Merle reached for his arm, fingers positioned threateningly. "No!" he yelped, jumping up and glaring at his redheaded friend. "I'm answering your question, you violent little-"

"You certain you want to finish that insult?" she asked coolly. Brand glowred.

"You know I'm… going to explain now," he amended hastily, sneaking a look at a silent but obviously exasperated Cyne who had been forgotten by the bickering two quite some time ago.

"Please do," the brunette murmured, rubbing her temples as she leaned over the map, face intent. Brand cleared his throat dramatically, a cocky grin on his lips.

"This here is-" All three groaned in unison as someone knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Merle called in a voice between a growl and a yell.

"You are there, hatchling?" A small smile crossed Cyne's face at the mention of the pet name Nawat had given his daughter. The one that Merle had made her friend swear- under pain of death- never to tell Brand. The taller girl winced with chagrin as Brand's eyes danced with unmasked glee.

"Yes, Da!" Merle answered. Cyne could almost see her friend plotting her swift retaliation in the case that Brand decided to start using that particular nickname. He would, of course. It was only a question of when-

"And your flock mates? Cyne and Brand?"

"We're here, yes!" Cyne answered, raising her voice. She saw Brand mouth a word in Merle's direction and cock his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes.

Dove was right. Sooner or later, he would probably fall madly in love with their friend. After he stopped mooning over Court ladies.

"Just make sure you eat something from the kitchens soon. And no staying up so late. Lord Hanimar is still here." There was a pause. "Grumpy as a hawk," the three friends heard him mutter and grinned.

"I guess crows and hawks don't get along too well," Cyne murmured. Merle's smile grew even wider.

"Nope. W- they don't." Outside, Nawat's footsteps resounded against the stone corridor as he wandered away. "Now quick!" she urged. "Before someone else comes!"

"After you disappeared in the marketplace, Merle," Brand began. "-that man that killed Theon- Kiluji is his name- walked right past me. I followed him, and-" He looked at them seriously. "That cat, right there-" He tapped the symbol. "-is-" He coughed, and Merle gritted her teeth.

"Sometime tonight, please. If your mind can handle stringing so many words together at a time, that is," she snapped. A slow, wicked smile crossed his face. He brushed his dark hair out of his face.

"Whatever you say… _hatchling_." Getting glares from both girls now, he sighed. "Fine. Ruin my fun."

"You're ruining mine," Cyne retorted. "Tell. Now."

"Poor me-"

"I've got no sympathy. Stop with-holding information, Sibigat." He rolled his eyes.

"Girls. No appreciation of theatrical talent. Alright, alright," he added hastily as Cyne and Merle tensed. "No need to get your breeches in a twist- if it makes you happy-

"It's the sign of the Jaguar Goddess."

* * *

Though that was probably obvious... now you know. 

Ugh... I'm sick and tired. I'm going back to bed now...


	13. Chapter 13: Putting the Pieces Together

_Crap. That's supposed to be 'pieces' and I don't think I can fix it..._

_AN: I have a recount, so that this next chapter doesn't confuse... I read it over along with sending it to my beta, this time, Lady Muck. I'm typing faster than usual because I'm typing from an already written script... I wasn't about to abandon my writing without the computer during my weekend trip to Grandma's. Over the river and through the woods. Literally. So I type faster and make more mistakes. I checked this time. Really..._

_Thanks to **Lady Muck **for pointing out I had typing issues. I will play closer attention- Thanks yous also_ _to my beta, **KyrieofAccender**, and my reviewers **PieofDoomeh**, **Lady Whimsy**, **Lioness Queen**, **wingsgirl1313**, and **Ginastar**! I realise now the eager clamor for fluff! I shall have to think on that a bit-_

* * *

_Recount:_

_"I've got no sympathy. Stop with-holding information, Sibigat." He rolled his eyes. _

_"Girls. No appreciation of theatrical talent. Alright, alright," he added hastily as Cyne and Merle tensed. "No need to get your breeches in a twist- if it makes you happy-_

_"It's the sign of the Jaguar Goddess."_

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen_

_Putting the Pieces Together_

"How do you know?" were the first words out of Cyne's and Merle's mouths. Brand leaned over and spoke in a low, confidential voice.

"I followed him to one of those old warehouses. You know the ones I mean- the real old buildings bordering the Merchant's Square in the Temple District. Most are used by healers to administer to those who can't afford to pay for one. But not this one." He took a deep breath, then plunged on. "These men- priests- the ones I saw- they turned it into a worship place for the followers of the Jaguar Goddess."

"Who is this goddess?" Merle asked, frowning. It was Cyne who answered.

"Sister to Kyprioth. She ruled the Isles, hundreds of years ago…."

"Until Kyprioth locked her up," Brand added. "And now, her followers have stolen this amulet of the Trickster's from Theon, and it will somehow release her from whatever prison she's been held in, all these years."

"Are you certain they worship her?" Brand glowered at Cyne, who held her hands up defensively. "My apologies if I've insulted you, but we need to be sure."

"The robes they wear are enough. The black and gold ones? Not to mention the _Great Mother of the Isles _in Kyprish inscribed over a statue of a young woman flanked by those huge cats in that temple… I don't think I could have been more positive, and that was _before _they started speaking." The girls' eyes glimmered with excitement and interest; if Lord Hanimar had banged on the door now, Merle might have gotten up and opened the door to tell him to keep the noise down. Fortunately, for the sake of their lives and Aly's sanity, the man was not in his rooms at the moment. "Anyway, our man- Kiluji- met a group of men in there and they started jabbering. That was before I found the open window to listen at," he added.

"You could have been killed!" Merle snapped. "I thought you had more brains than that-"

"Though not much more," Cyne muttered. She agreed with Merle, but arguing with Brand would get them nowhere. He was alive and whole before them, with information that she wanted. "What happened next?"

"He took out the amulet and they all started dashing about and stuffing belongings into packs. They said sommat about a temple, and going somewhere and that she would soon be free-"

"This," Cyne said instantly, pointing to the small cat- the _jaguar_- on the map. "It's a temple. It has to be. Remember all Kiluji was saying to Theon?"

"Kyprioth will pay, even if another raka god must take over," Merle muttered, scowling. "So… this Jaguar Goddess is going to overthrow Kyprioth, if she gets free. And... If they bring the amulet to this spot-" She touched the inked symbol on the map, grinning with triumph as she put it together. "-she'll be free!"

There was a flash of bright light between Brand and Cyne. As they leapt up, knocking over his chair in Brand's case, the Trickster was suddenly among them.

"Cat's dung," Brand said weakly. "Can't you ever give us any warning?" Extravagant bangle clinking together, the Trickster drew himself up regally and shot a glare at the boy.

"If you can't take a surprise once in awhile, you should not be dealing with gods."

"That's what I _have _been saying, but nobody listens to me," he pointed out. The god pursed his lips, then grinned.

"Too bad you're stuck with us, laddy," he retorted, wickedness written all over his features. "And you won't be free of us for some time."

"Us?" Merle repeated dolefully. Kyprioth winked.

"Well, my Great Brother and Sister have decided it would be in their interests to help me." Cyne stared at him for a long moment.

"So… this goddess is that bad?"

"Worse," Kyprioth replied cheerfully. Producing a coin from one pocket of his colorful robe, he flipped it up lazily in the air and caught it. "But you won't have to worry, because you _will _stop her."

"Oh?" Merle asked archly. "Is it written somewhere?"

"Nope," the god told her. "But I must convince myself you will succeed. If I've put my trust in the wrong people, the consequences for me will be… _unpleasant_, to say the least… and I do not fancy depressing myself." Though his voice was mild, there was a dark undertone to his deliberate playfulness that worried Cyne.

"We still need to get the amulet," Merle reminded their divine acquaintance. "Can't you just wave your fingers and- poof!- we're there?"

"No," Kyprioth answered patiently. "Though I bound my sister, her power can still… _manifest_ itself in subtle ways. One of those- along with how I cannot reveal what the amulet is for myself- includes not being able to move anyone or thing near the amulet _or _to take the amulet back from anyone else myself. _That _must be done by one who is not a god, just as it is an undivine being who must bring the amulet to the shrine to free her."

"So that is what this is? A temple of the Jaguar Goddess?" Cyne prompted.

"A shrine," the god corrected. "Located on a crossroads. One wooden statue of _her_, covered in a thousand small carvings that tell her story. She wears a golden circlet around her head-"

"Real gold?" Merle asked, then frowned when the Trickster nodded.

"Haven't thieves tried to-"

"They cannot," he retorted gravely. "Even if they dared." He turned away from them, tapping his many-ringed fingers against his thigh. "The centerpiece- the gem that belongs embedded in the circlet- is the amulet. It is the key to reawakening her. If those priests fit the amulet into its place on the statue-" He scowled. "Would that I had destroyed her priests when she was bound!" A chill ran up Cyne's spine at the display of the god's pitiless nature. To kill mortals for serving a goddess who lost her power-

_It was what the luarins did to the raka, _she reminded herself. The white-skinned foreigners had slaughtered almost the entire raka nobility. Still, she saw no good coming from it.

But he was a god. And they cared little for the grief and suffering of mortals. Those meant nothing to the higher powers. Then Kyprioth smiled and patted Brand on the shoulder.

"It would have saved you a little bruising, m'lad." The youth reddened as his friends turned to look at him.

"I was fine," he mumbled. "They-kinda caught me…." Their eyes widened.

"_What?!_" Merle shrieked. "You stupid-"

"I'm fine," he said quickly, cutting her off. "I got all healed and stuff when I saw that badger and Mith-" He stopped, but the girls were too sharp-witted not to realize what he had been about to say.

"_Mithros?_" Merle hissed. "You-"

"Yes, he was assaulted. He ran away and collapsed. Then my brother kidnapped him because it was the only way that Sun god could hold my attention." Kyprioth waggled his fingers flippantly at the seething redhead. "He's alive, and will continue to live despite the encounter." Then he looked over at Cyne. "Yes?"

"You-" Cyne frowned. "You told me he was alright-"

"He was." The god shrugged. "And then he was not."

"Some eye you're keeping out for us," Merle muttered. "Here I thought you were watching our backs."

"Me, dear? No, I am rather busy. I shall deal with my dear sister Krypria when she comes… but not a moment sooner shall I be using my powers. I _cannot_. That is why you have two other comrades; to keep each other out of trouble."

"Not that that's working," she said spitefully. Kyprioth sighed, then winked at the other two.

"So I would be making arrangements for running off to Malubesang," he hinted. "-while I make excuses for _you_." His face brightened as he added, "I can even tell the truth. _That _would trouble Aly more, anyway." Merle glared at the god. "Don't be so surprised. If I was not delighted to cause an uproar, I could hardly be the Boss Trickster, now could I?"

"They should mutiny," the redheaded girl retorted.

"Ah… but that is precisely what I am trying to avoid now, my dear." Swiftly, he lowered his head and lightly touched her forehead with his lips. "Consider me honored to be your patron, though I did not claim the pleasure of guarding all three of you quick enough." Cyne blinked; he was gone.

"I never said he was my patron," Merle said, looking partly alarmed, partly resentful.

"I suppose we don't have a choice, do we?" Cyne replied detachedly, mind occupied with wondering who up there had spoken for her.

* * *

_AN: Hmm... don't we all wonder? Except for me. (evil grin) If you like, you can review now... or you may choose not to. That's the nice thing about life. Choice. Like I chose to have a physical trainer that I'm going to soon... though why I chose that, I"m not quite certain..._

Chapter 14 is now very long and very exciting. There's action. I promise...


	14. Chapter 14: A Ball

_AN: Thank yous to **Lioness Queen**, **Lady Whimsy**, **fairydust000**, **PieofDoomeh**, **wingsgirl1313**, **Dream Ablaze **for their reviews. Thanks to **KyrieofAccender**, as usual, and to **Lady Muck **for inspiring this chapter. (She mentioned that I needed action soon... and I have complied. Heh heh.) This is a little long, though, so I had to end it... suddenly..._

Disclaimer: Not mine. Tamora Pierce is a genius.

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen_

_A Ball_

"Are you sure this plan will work?" Merle asked anxiously. Cyne frowned faintly as she turned in the mirror.

"It had better," she answered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "If it doesn't, I don't know what to do…." She sighed. "At least I'm finally using this. Aunt Dove _has _been pleading me to go to one of these gatherings for some times now…. After all, there is no other use for these gowns."

"Well, you look spectacular," she heard her redheaded friend say. "Too bad you have no sweetheart. Maybe you'll find one tonight." Cyne made a face.

"There is one reason to going to this. To hunt down Lord Hanimar and see if he would mind his queen's niece coming back to Malubesang with him for a visit to Hauji Cove. The shrine is close enough that we might be able to go out on a ride-"

"But we aren't going to visit, Cyne." Merle scowled in frustration. "We're supposed to _guard _it! From men who wouldn't mind sticking a knife in us! A trio of young people against _who knows how many_-"

"We will figure it out when we get there," she said softly, hoping Merle could not tell that she herself had no idea how they would accomplish their task. "Do you think I should wear the amethyst eardrops?" she asked as a way of distracting her friend. Merle stepped back to inspect the dark-haired noble's attire.

Cyne wore a blue dress that combined luarin and Kyprish styles equally, with half, flowing sleeves and a solid body that fell down to her sandaled feet. Though she had never used it before except in disguise work, she had put on face paint to exaggerate her eyelashes and make her lips shine. After some deliberation, she had decided on wearing several rings, a long string of necklaces, and dangling earrings made of golden chains.

"No. Those are fine." Cyne let out a long breath. "You know, it _is _about time to leave, even if you are being fashionably late." She smiled as Merle giggled. The ballroom would inevitably be boring and stuffy, and- since it was to be her first night there- there would be many introductions to make.

"Are you _certain _you don't want to come?" The redhead smiled wryly.

"Nah. Tajang would see me and instantly decided to despise you." The lord had been too busy yelling at Merle the other night to notice Cyne or Brand, but he would certainly remember the redhead. "Not to mention, I'd probably end up insulting the man, if he's as dreary and pompous as Victorcine said." Cyne shrugged, letting that one argument stand. It was going to be a long night of curtsying and polite nodding. "Better it be you work smiling and gritting your teeth than me." The girl grinned. "Gods, you should be queen, you're so good at soothing hotheads and stubborn elders who loathe change just 'cause it's change." Cyne rolled her eyes.

"Have you forgotten me freezing up when more than five folk look at me at a time?"

"I thought you were accustomed to-" Merle's voice trailed off as she glanced up at the sound of the eighth bell. "Drat! You'll need to go, lest Lord I'm-A-Stuffy-Frump decides you're worth squat for getting there _too _late." With a quick smile at her friend, Cyne hitched up her skirts and dashed out of her chambers, already cursing the dress to Chaos and back again.

The garden party was held in one of the grand ballrooms off of the extensive palace gardens. Cyne would have preferred the gardens for many reasons, but tonight she would be inside. Outside the small, side door into the hall, Cyne stopped to straighten her clothes and hair. Once she was certain she was decent and was no longer breathing hard, the queen's niece drew herself up and strode into the room.

Thankfully, not many recognized her and thus few even noticed her as she weaved her way through the people. She saw a few of the younger debutantes look at her and begin to giggle and whisper to themselves; they probably only knew her as the friend of the handsome young man who occasionally decided to cross their paths. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Still, there were several nods and smiles to return as Cyne searched for her aunt.

"Are you looking for someone?" Cyne turned around to meet the friendly brown eyes of a raka young man. _Probably a half-blood, _she thought as he bowed and she curtsied in reply.

"Her Majesty, actually," she answered, not bothering to introduce herself. She did not want him fawning over her or stealing her away to dance.

"Queen Dovasary is speaking with Lord Hanimar right now," he said, lips curling into a wry smile. "And something tells me he will not be done with her for quite awhile." Cyne had to smile back; Tajang _had _struck her as the type to keep speaking until the listener pleaded a leave of absence. It was one of the impressions she was relying on for their plan to work…. "The old man has been complaining about the condition of some of the Crown roads in Malubesang." He made a rather un-noblelike face.

"You sound as if you know him," Cyne remarked. He shuddered.

"Gods, I came with his group of lackies!" he said. "You see, though he does not like the raka much- or my father- my mother has been like a daughter to him since she was young. So he decided that I ought to visit Court, for all that he complains about it."

"Do you like it so far?" Cyne asked, now curious. She had- at first- entertained ideas of excuses for making her exit and leaving the slightly gawky young man, but now she wanted to see if she could find out more about Hanimar Tajang. Besides, the youth seemed pleasant enough, with a gentle face that gave her the idea that he was more thoughtful than perhaps most boys their age.

"I do," was his reply, but a grin crossed his face as he looked over at a trio of young ladies watching him from behind their fans. "Though I believe that most of the ladies are too well ornamented to be seen properly. And I can hardly talk to someone I can't see." A laugh escaped Cyne; when the young man looked back at her, she was still unable to smooth her amused expression. Her green-blue eyes- now very blue- glittered.

"That can be troublesome," she agreed wryly. "Though my friends usually don't hold with such nonsense." The idea of Merle dressing in the pink, puffy frills that one of the girls was wearing made a grin slid across her face.

"How long have you been at Court?" he asked, with a bit more interest in his voice than the usual polite courtier's. Cyne responded eagerly to his tone. It was more animated than anyone's except the behaviors of Brand and Merle, and very refreshing.

"I have been here since I was eleven." Her face fell slightly as she remembered her father, waving on the shore. "My family… is in Carthak." His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"That is a far way to come!" he exclaimed.

"Hmm…." Cyne's eyes traveled over worriedly to several matrons who were staring at them with curiosity and disapproval. "Perhaps lower your voice?" He followed her gaze, then started.

"My apologies, my lady. Here I am, disgracing your reputation with my loudness, and I never introduced myself." He bowed again. "Damek Farivan of Hauji Cove, son of Lord Colver and Lady Messina." Cyne sighed, then smiled ruefully.

"I was hoping we would not come to formal introductions," she told him, then curtsied grandly, hoping that he would be ignorant of the Hetnims and- if so- that he would not ask her about her relations. "Lady Cyne Hetnim, daughter of Lord Zaimid and Lady Saraiyu."

"Honored to meet you, my lady," he replied respectfully, then grinned. "More so than I am to meet the usual court lady." She smiled.

"Lord Damek-"

"Damek, please."

"Damek, then. I should hope you are not flirting, for then I would have to disappear to continue my errand." He looked startled for a moment, then smiled again.

"Ah, yes. Finding Her Majesty. May I ask why?" With that, Cyne started through the crowd again, looking. Damek followed.

"She expects me."

"Indeed? Your family- despite residing in Carthak- is important, then?"

"Yes." Cyne struggled to explain without telling him she was Dove's niece. "My father is Emperor Kaddar's closest healer and one of his advisors."

"And how is he important to the Isles?"

_Damn. _Why did he have to keep asking questions? Cyne looked away, under pretence of searching, as she thought up an answer.

"Ah… I could not say. He visited the Isles some time ago. I believe he met my aunt during that time…."

"Who are your relations here? Or has the queen herself offered you a place here because of the… friendship? That she had with your father?"

"Yes." _It _is _true, _she justified. But she said nothing of her mother.

"Oh!" Damek's exclamation made her turn to him. He grinned and pointed. "There." They made their way through the crowd to the pair standing by a set of windows, speaking in quiet tones. Dressed in creamy white, Dove smiled at her niece as Cyne and Damek approached.

"Hello, Cyne." Cyne bobbed a quick curtsy.

"Your Majesty." Then she turned to the lord, who was frowning faintly. "Your lordship."

"Who is this, Cyne?" Dove asked, a smile on her face as she nodded towards Damek.

"One of my charges," Lord Hanimar said loudly, as if he were partially deaf. Cyne would not doubt it if someone said he was.

"Damek Farivan, Your Majesty." The queen's smile was warm.

"Good to meet you, Damek." He flushed slightly, and bowed. Then she turned to Lord Hanimar.

"This is Cyne Hetnim, my niece." Inwardly, Cyne swore. _That _was the end of that friendship. The young Damek Farivan would begin groveling before her and acting the part of the perfect Court lord now...

Still, she snuck a glance at him. He was looking at her the same way. Both of them smiled sheepishly at the absurdity of it, then glanced away. Dove noticed, and frowned. She had not thought that Cyne was concealing her identity. That could not bode well….

"How are you, Lord Hanimar?" Cyne asked politely. The old man peered at her through narrowed black eyes.

"Not well, my dear," he wheezed. "I have a slight ache in my shoulder, which ought to give way to something much more painful, soon enough-" With a wink at them, Dove excused herself as the man complained of his ailments to Cyne in a way that made her wonder if he took pride in them. Still, she made the appropriate, sympathetic noises at the proper points and kind remarks and advice when he stopped to catch his breath.

Over to the side, Damek listened, impressed. The young lady was skilled at figuring out his benefactor's mind; he could see the old fogy was warming to her, which was good for the Crown. Since she was the queen's niece, inevitably he would think better of Dovasary, and then bring news home that would be more complimentary than cynical. Perhaps there would not be war, after all-

As he thanked all the gods he could think of, Cyne continued with asking about his stay- only barely tolerable, according to him- and hoped he would bring up what she most wanted to speak of, now that she was almost certain he had taken a liking to her. When he mentioned going home, she nearly cheered.

"It's this place," he had said, glaring about. "Too much city. I will be glad to go home, though _some _might like it here." His eyes were on Damek.

"I have heard that your island is the loveliest of the Isles," Cyne said softly. "Though some duchesses say that Lombyn-" Immediately, the lord straightened indignantly.

"Lombyn? Never!" he declared clearly. "It has a refined, tamed beauty, young lady, make no mistake, but it is nothing next to the jungles of Malubesang."

"The jungles are said to be a wonder," she agreed. "But I would think that the cliffs and the hills near Hauji Cove are the real treasures. From what I know, there are none like them anywhere else in the kingdom." Instantly, Tajang was caught. Nearly bursting with pride, he spoke of the Isle- where he had been, where he lived- at great length and- to her own delight- Cyne found that she was interested. _That _was a blessing within itself, since anyone who found such subjects dull would have found the next couple of hours tortuous. From discussions of the land, they talked of the cities and the people- not just the noble circle that Tajang was in- as well as the novelties of Hauji and the business done there. She almost forgot that she had had a purpose. Almost.

"Yes, I will be happy to leave," he said with a sigh, leaning back in the cushions which the two had seated themselves in when it was apparent that their conversation would be a long one. Damek had long since excused himself. "Though, perhaps… I shall miss some… people. Some that do not trot about all self-important." Cyne looked away, pleased with her work. But her lips twitched; his comment sounded remarkably like it spoke of those similar to himself.

"I do wish I could see your isle myself," she said softly, calling upon all of her subtle diplomacy skills. "I have not seen any of the other islands. All my time here has been spent in Rajmuat, and most of that here in the palace."

"It is a jewel," the old man declared, rubbing his pointed chin. Then his eyes surveyed her shrewdly. Carefully, Cyne continued.

"Yes. I should love to see the clear waters of Hauji, and the bazaar streets sound like the ones back in Carthak." Then her eyes brightened eagerly. "Have I ever told you of them? They were huge, with always so much going on. I used to beg Papa to let me and Uimor- his student- to wander through." Remembering the bustle of Jiekai, she sighed. "I do not go into Rajmuat much. A-" She stopped herself, remembering that few knew Lady Alianne's place near Dove, and that she could not call her Aly except perhaps to her face. _If _the woman let her. "My aunt says that there is too much danger in that. Here, in the capital, it is risky to let a relative of the queen out to walk the streets, even with a guard-" She almost made a face, but caught herself and turned it into a slight pout. "And there is no fun in that. No one will approach you if you have soldiers around you."

"That _would _be the point of the guard," Tajang said dryly, and Cyne chanced a smile at him. "My dear, if your aunt does not mind, you and perhaps a few attendants may come back with me to visit Malubesang. Hauji is not very dangerous, and we would take great care of you." A wider smile lit up the girl's face in triumph, but she quickly remembered herself and, getting up, curtsied to him.

"Thank you, my lord," she said in a soft voice that hardly revealed her exultation. "You honor me greatly."

"I know," she heard him mutter as she rushed off to find Dove.

Cyne came back to Lord Hanimar Tajang with her aunt by her side, smiles on both their faces. Dove thanked the lord for her generous invitation and inwardly rejoiced. This proved, more than anything else she had seen her niece do, that she would be a great queen. The young woman had convinced a tricky, cranky old man who even _she_, the queen, had been worried about charming that she was a sweet girl _and _even worthy enough of notice to be taken to visit his home island. It was rather simple to discuss details with the lord, including a request to allow two friends join Cyne.

"They go everywhere together, and would not cause any trouble," the queen reassured him. "Their parents have wanted them to travel for some time; I will ask them tonight-"

When Cyne wandered away to allow Dove to speak with Tajang, she spotted Lady Alianne Crow watching her with a crooked smile on her lips. She made her way over to the copper-haired woman and sank into a Kyprish bow, an indication that she knew the one before her and felt much respect for her. Aly grinned wryly.

"That was as skillful as anything I saw your aunt do," she murmured quietly, surveying the crowd as she did. Cyne did not feel insulted that the woman did not look at her; Aly was watching for trouble, as always. "Beautiful work on him. I personally would have opted to adding piranhas back into the moat and dunking him in there to cool his temper."

"I do not believe he would appreciate the swim," Cyne answered politely, her blue eyes glittering. Aly turned to stare into them for a moment, and nearly started. She could see in them a determination that reminded her eerily of Dove. Not to mention the girl startlingly resembled her aunt in the first place.

_Not exactly_, she corrected herself. _Taller, a little slimmer- She has the beauty of her mother, but still looks so much like Dove- _

And it was not just looks that the queen and her heir- though Cyne did not know _that _yet, as far as she knew- shared. Love of books was another. Diplomacy and a tendency to win unswerving loyalty seemed to be another that was now surfacing.

Pushing her thoughts away, Aly laughed softly.

"No, I would think not," she replied, uncomfortably aware that she felt the same sudden urge to serve this young lady as she had her aunt for so many years. She had watched the girl very carefully for the past three years, closer than she and her friends would think possible. "I hope Dove does not mind if I leave for a moment; I need to find Taybur in the study. He needs to know about Lord Tajang's favor has decided to fall upon us, after all." With a quick smile at the dark-haired young woman, she headed for the doors.

Dove had made the right choice when she had asked Hetnim if Cyne could come to the Isles.

* * *

When he had learned that Cyne was coming back to Malubesang, Damek nodded, face pleasant. 

"I should hope to see your ladyship during the voyage," he told the dark-haired girl, who bit her lip in dismay. Noticing this, Dove- who had come back around to Cyne's side- frowned slightly. This would not do!

"Damek has a rather extensive Gift, Cyne. He studied in a mage school on Malubesang, but will eventually come back to Rajmuat for training." She looked at the young man. "Cyne's father is one of the best healers in the world. She herself has inherited an… unusual Gift. I am certain that she can show you to her teacher, Ysul, sometime soon." Suddenly, Damek lit up with interest again.

"Ysul is your teacher? The mage from the Raka Rebellion?" Cyne sent a silent, grateful look to her aunt, who winked before moving on.

"He does not like to talk of it- well," she amended, a dry smile on her lips. "-he cannot speak at all. I use sign language with him."

"So I could not communicate with him?" Damek's face fell with disappointment.

"I could translate for you," she offered quickly. "No trouble at all." Damek's face brightened again.

"I have learned from mages with more… luarin… based training than many Islanders would have. I'd like to- to study real raka magic." Cyne nodded, thinking about what she could tell him.

"My own Gift is so very different from most that we often use guesswork to handle it. I know little of the normal kind of magic," Cyne told him. "It's… gotten harder as I have gotten older. Now, I can manipulate water, deal with the weather, and heal… but very little besides."

"That's a hefty bit by itself," Damek said, voice impressed. She shrugged.

"Ysul thinks my magic had a- an affinity with water." The youth's eyebrows rose.

"I have never heard of such a thing… but it sounds interesting," he said hastily. "So your teacher hasn't heard the like of it ever before?"

"I love when people make me feel like a freak," she answered dryly, watching the couples whirl around the dance floor.

"Don't let it bother you," he told her, smiling crookedly. "I never have." Cyne shrugged again. "Would you like to dance?" At her nod, Damek led her out onto the floor. She placed one hand in his and one on his shoulder, and he spun her about, one hand on her waist.

"I usually do not," she replied lightly to his first remark about letting what others said trouble her. "But it is harder here, in a world where I- as my aunt's niece- must comply with everyone's wishes."

"Sounds like more trouble than it's worth."

"No," Cyne objected, surprised that she would voice her thoughts to him when it would be easier just to nod and wait in silence. "No, I like to think of it as a game. It is not as hard as it sound, anyway." Damek laughed loudly.

"Maybe for you!" he said, and Cyne smiled slightly, suddenly wondering if all boys were as outspoken and more against propriety than she had thought. Surely Brand would have no qualms with acting so jubilantly either, but she saw the same matrons from before eyeing her dancing partner with disdained airs. Once, as Damek twirled her around and past the older woman, Cyne caught part of their conversation.

"Yes, always with the unruly redhead and the handsome boy. In breeches, no less! I do wonder how many beaus-" Then they were out of earshot and Cyne blushed hotly. Damek looked at her puzzled.

"They were talking about me," she mumbled, then looked away. "I- I do not talk to many, and my friends are limited to my teachers and two my own age. My classmates. And best friends," she muttered.

"I find nothing wrong in that myself." Then he cocked an eyebrow. "The redhead and the handsome boy? Have you only admirers?" A laugh escaped Cyne.

"_Merle_, my friend- a girl," she continued, flashing an uncharacteristically wicked smile at her partner. "And Brand. Yes, he is handsome. No, we girls do not tell him, for his head is already swollen enough as it is." Damek chuckled.

"No swains or beaus, then?"

"Merle is the lovely one," Cyne told him. As the music stopped, they automatically drew back and did their respective bow or curtsy, Damek looking at Cyne.

"I would doubt that," he finally said slowly, and Cyne hoped he would think her cheeks flushed from the dance. "Your eyes are very unusual."

"My father always said they were sea-eyes," she said quietly as they made their way towards the wall, near the dais where Dove stood regally with her husband.

"That's right." He stopped to look at Cyne. "You said your father knew Dove- was he her brother?" A hollow laugh escaped her.

"No… my mother was Saraiyu Balitang." Her voice turned hard. "If you know our more recent history, you know her as the stubborn fool who insulted the Rittevons by rejecting the marriage proposal to the king by eloping." She felt like throwing something, odd as that was. Then she mocked herself for the impulse. _That _would have gone over well, would it have not?

"I know her as the woman who was brave enough to follow her heart." His brown eyes were mild, but Cyne could see a gentle concern in them. Turning away, she watched as a few twittering girls passed them by.

"Brave… or cowardly?" He did not hesitate.

"Brave, without a doubt," he answered firmly. Cyne could not reply. Finally, she shrugged.

"Perhaps I cannot appreciate it," she admitted. "I have always been more like my aunt. My mother's passions and impulses have always been a mystery to me."

"More reserved and quiet, then?" Now Damek was grinning. "No secret assignations?"

"Hardly," she retorted, an off feeling stirring in the region of her stomach. "I've never met anyone worth the trouble."

"I see. I myself-"

There was a sudden loud shatter of glass, and Cyne and Damek whipped around. Cyne's mouth dropped open as a man _flew _into the ballroom through a huge, broken window, his bloodshot, murderous eyes on the shocked crowd before him.

But the one observation that stayed with her was that the man wore gold and black robes. Her mouth dried as three others followed the first, madly laughing. But the leader's face was stern, and coldly calculated as he surveyed the screamers and the guards rushing towards them. He raised one hand.

A scream of warning tore from Cyne as she sensed the tension in the air. A moment later, fire erupted from the man's hand, flying into the wall in a haze of smoke and dust from rubble that spewed from the site. Frantically searching for an escape, Cyne saw a piece of marble flying towards her and prepared to drop. Damek shoved her down as it soared past. Despite the panic and urgency of the situation before them, she looked at the youth and frowned slightly.

"I am quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you-" Her tart comment was cut off as she saw Dove standing paralyzed on the dais. The men were headed for her. "No!" She started forwards, only to be held back by her companion. She turned an icy glare on him; Damek blanched, but did not release her arms. "Let me go," she said coldly.

"Don't get in their way, Cyne-"

"My aunt is in _danger_," she snapped.

"Her guards will protect-" But- as she looked- she did not see any save the several men that wandered through the party, and none of them were correctly positioned to take on the attackers. Damek's words were lost as the intruders headed for Dove. Then, a ball of fire gathered in the mage leader's fingers. Off to the side, Cyne watched helplessly as the man looked at her aunt deliberately. The girl began struggling against Damek even harder. Unable to restrain her with only holding her arms, he grimly wrapped one arm around her waist, hoping that she would find it in herself to forgive him later.

Then, with a disdainful sneer, the man released the torrent of fire, directing it straight towards the queen!

* * *

_AN: Oh no! That's the end?! (evil grin)_

_Well, this chapter _was _getting rather long, and I figured that this was as good a place to stop as any... (evil grin widens)_

_Review, please?_


	15. Chapter 15: Water Silences

_Diclaimer: It's not my world. It's Tamora Pierce's. _

_AN: My goodness! I got the most reviews that I ever had for a chapter- ten! Maybe I should do such terrible cliffies more often... (evil grin) _

_Thank you to **Kelusen**, **Lady Whimsy**, **Ginastar**, **Lioness Queen**, **PrincessSolaria**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **fairydust000**, **Dream Ablaze**,_ and_** wingsgirl1313**. And thanks to my most awesome beta, **KyrieofAccender. **All should bow down and pay you homage. Except me; I've got my knee troubles. _

_And it's thanks to my blunder that I'm posting today- I promised I'd post today, even though I usually post of Friday, because my mind was spazzing..._

_So... enjoy!_

* * *

_Chapter Fifteen_

_Water Silences_

"No!" Cyne screamed as she watched the flames headed towards her aunt. One random thought echoed through her mind in that terrible moment, and only one.

_Water silences fire- _

As the importance of the thought struck her, the girl focused on Dove and called up her magic urgently. It took little effort; her power had been bubbling up, almost flooding her control, and now-

Now it erupted, shooting towards the queen, the mage, and the fire. The windows in the ballroom shattered as a gale-force wind hit them. Into the ballroom came miniature storms and waves of the ocean-

_I didn't call any of that! _Cyne thought, panicked. But she was trapped, lost in a torrent of her magic, and unable to do anything but attempt to control what would happen next.

The power roared through her as she strained to pull back the winds, to call them back. The storms were too much to handle; she only directed them to the other intruders and prayed for the best.

Her brow furrowed; her eyes narrowed. Her magic- the waves, the water- they wanted to claim _her_. They were wild, untamed-

Willpower. Discipline. All her father and Ysul had instructed left her as she grappled for dominance with the forces that would take her. Their essence and her own mixed until they were one, until Cyne could feel the anger and rage in the water, the life and death-

She was reminded of her dream, in which Theon had tried to drag her below the waves. Now, the power was stronger than that; it did not need a Mithran priest to steal her life away-

_No. _She fought it, forced it back. _No- _

She could not stop the water. She watched, horrified- she _felt _it- no _her_, she felt _herself _topple forwards-

And then she was free. Gasping, she fell to the floor as her magic and the waves disappeared, leaving the ballroom a ruined mess of wet wallpaper, puddles, and seaweed. Bedraggled, she looked up to see Aly by Dove's side, pulling her up. It seemed that she had knocked her queen out of the way of-

"Well. We have a strong mage here, eh?" Terrified, Cyne watched as two of the men headed for Dove. But the _leader _was turning towards _her_.

* * *

"Go away!" Merle rolled her eyes at Brand's locked door. "I want some sleep, not wandering about some ballroom for the rest of the miserable night!" 

"Cyne will be there, and bored."

"Better her than me." The redhead would have argued more, except that she had a sudden urge to sneak in and speak with her friend.

Cyne would be out of her mind with boredom, and Merle could remedy that for a few moments, if not hours. Resolved, she gave up trying to appeal with their other friend, neatened her skirts, and strode off in the direction of the party. As she neared the corridor, she heard a shattering of glass that made her sigh.

"Wonder who was tossed out the window," she muttered. "And by whom…." She hoped that the men were not that gone with the drinks, not at Court, though to see her mother cracking some heads for it would be entertaining. No, it was probably a servant who had dropped a plate of glassware, though who in the palace staff was so clumsy- maybe a fumble-fingered noble had run into-

It was then that the screams pierced her thoughts. Alarmed, the girl sprinted for the door and yanked at it, only to find it locked. Growling out a curse, she peered at the lock mechanism, then grabbed one of the lock picks that served her as hairpins and furiously worked at the knob as the unmistakable sounds of mage fire roared throughout the room beyond the door. She was still working and swearing when the odd sounds of thunder and waves accompanied water that swept underneath the door to ruin her slippers.

The first lock clicked as a dead silence fell within.

* * *

Trembling from sudden fatigue and the gleaming hatred in the eyes of the man advancing towards her, Cyne tried to back away only to find that she could not. The power that had coursed through her was gone; she was just a small, weak girl- 

"Get out." Aly's low voice traveled across the room, even as each man reached into their robes to unsheathe a sword. All the noblemen looked about uncomfortably. None of them wore any weapons to such gatherings.

It was with that realization that Cyne's stomach dropped to the dungeons in fear. There were two other guards that always stayed near Dove, the ones now trapped on the other side of the room. And Aly.

Three against four. Not to mention that one of the four was a mage. A mage who was standing before her now with an unsheathed sword.

"The Jaguar Goddess shall rise!" the first man- the leader who had nearly killed Dove- shouted.

In the livid expression that Aly wore- she was probably berating herself for this fluke in her security, Cyne guessed- she saw shock. And then a dark fury entered her hazel eyes. The mage pointed a shaky finger at Aly and Dove.

"And the Trickster's favored shall fall!" He turned to address the room, his sword level with his chest. "They will die, as will you! You-" He pointed the blade at Dove, who was still twenty feet away from the nearest weapon. Saving any Aly had on her, that was… but Cyne could not see anything. Could it be possible that the woman had not worn any for the celebration-? "-will die!"

If the look on Aly's eyes _had _been dangerous, now it was deadly. Cyne thanked the gods that she was on their side.

"Oh?" the woman spat. "I never put much stock in words. I suggest that you start _trying _now." The three other priests headed for the pair, and Aly dropped into a crouch, eyeing the men critically.

Attention settle on the fight about to begin, Cyne gasped when she was hauled up to her feet by the mage. Something flickered briefly in the spymaster's eyes, but it was gone in a moment. Dove's face twisted in fear, and the man laughed.

"Important, is she? Maybe we can come to an agreement."

* * *

Merle exhaled slowly as the final lock clicked into place. Very carefully, she pulled the door open a crack and gasped at the sight before her. In a hall where almost all the people were against the wall or on the floor stood four swordsmen in the robes they had seen Kiluji wearing. Three of them advanced on her mother and Cyne's aunt, and the other- Merle stepped back from the door with a small gasp. 

The other was holding Cyne.

Mind working fast, she recalled the layout of the room in her mind. Thanks to her picture memory, she saw that the ballroom had been wrecked; first, there was the obvious damage of the mage fire she had heard. Then there was the fact that it had seemed like the whole room had been underwater and then drained to leave everything and everyone soaked-

But this did not matter. Frantically, Merle searched the memory for anything that would help- Then her eyes lit up.

The balcony off the ballroom led to a staircase that entered the palace gardens. Of course.

She dashed towards the window at the end of the groundfloor hall, threw the shutters open, and leapt out.

She knew what to do.

* * *

Aly did not lower her gaze or let her voice shake as she eyed the man who held the life of her queen's niece- her heir!- in his hands. 

She could not let him know how important the girl was. That would ruin everything-

Dove knew that, she knew. But Dove also thought of Cyne as a daughter. The concern was still there, in her gentle face-

"Let the girl go," the spymaster ordered firmly. "No need to get some innocent lady entangled in your games." She looked up at the ceiling and grimaced. "In a quarrel that should be left for the gods." Four men with swords. Alone, she could make quick work of them. But while Cyne was at sword point- The drunk and possibly- no, _defintely_- insane man laughed and pulled Cyne against him.

"Why's Her Majesty all scared, then?"

"Any young subject in danger would trouble her," she scoffed. "I knew you were stupid, to come here, but I hadn't thought you could be _that _dumb."

Cyne felt lost and betrayed as Aly denied that she was very important to her aunt, even though the girl knew that the spymaster was trying to protect her. The girl saw a frustration in those hard eyes, and a thought- an obvious one, now that she had realized it- hit her. Aly could easily take four men, but she did not want to worry about Cyne-

Mind made up, the girl tensed, then shoved her elbow into the man's stomach. As the air left him and he keeled over, she grabbed his hand and twisted as a loud cawing echoed through the room and one other robed man headed towards Cyne. The last two headed for Aly and Dove.

A large, black crow swept over her head at the man coming to help his fallen friend. It dove to the floor gracefully and changed into a form Cyne knew well. With the ease of his flying form, Nawat Crow cut down the man using a plain hilted dagger, handsome face dark. Aly lunged at one of the men as Cyne realized that the man's comrade was already down; the copper-haired woman must have thrown a well-placed dagger into his shoulder while everyone was watching her husband. It was the work of a moment to bring the hilt of her knife down on the last man's head. Neither would die; it struck Cyne at that moment how Lady Alianne Crow had been careful not to kill if she could. Apparently her husband had no such qualms.

Still, it filled her with a secret relief as the third man fell. She was safe. Aly and Nawat would keep her safe, the danger was gone-

"You _bitch_!" Cyne did not recognize the voice, but it came from behind her... And suddenly, time seemed to slow before the girl's bright, alert eyes.

She saw Nawat whip around; she saw Dove pale and Aly stare at her with wide, haunted eyes.

Then she felt something slide into her side. As it tore out, a burning pain roared through her as she gasped. Biting back a scream of agony, she fell to the floor to see the mage standing above her, his eyes burning with demonic rage, his sword dripping with dark blood-

_My blood, _Cyne realized dimly. And it seemed that the man was not finished. She rose a feeble hand to try to stop him-

Inwardly, she knew that he would be killed, by Aly or Nawat or one of the guards- Their fury would be nothing to the man's Gift….

… but they were too far away to stop him before the knife fell into her breast, to stab her heart-

Her eyes locked with the killer's wild ones. She could almost believe that he could not see her, that he was in a blinding rage, except that his blade was headed towards her with deadly certainty. She wanted to close her eyes, only to find that she could not-

Then the mage shrieked in pain and dropped his sword to clutch his heart. Unable to see anything, Cyne only stared back into the widening, shocked eyes. A moment later, a knife flew over her head to bury itself in his chest.

_Aly, _a small, detached part of her decided. But the woman had not been the one to inflict the fatal wound on the man; he had already stopped-

He fell to one knee, then the other before collapsing eagle-spread on the floor so that she could see the knife that was lodged in his back.

And, there, behind the body, shaking violently, was Merle.

* * *

_AN: Ooooo... what happens next? Is that a better spot to leave off? Now, I was trying to think of a way to leave off right before the mage dies, but then I was lazy and decided that that would be cruel and unusual punishment... Feel free to leave a review. Or even two, although why you'd need to leave two- _

_I left two really long ones once. For one chapter. But that was to annoy/entertain someone (you know who you are)..._

_So. Moral of the long and boring story... please review. _


	16. Chapter 16: The Truth

_AN: OM gosh! I have **one hundred and eleven reviews**! This is amazing! And it's all thanks to you lovely reviewers! _

_I am far too excited about this._

_So says my serious, sensible self. But my jublilant self has just chucked her out the window. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far, and those who reviewed- **Lady Whimsy**, **Dream Ablaze**, **Ginastar**, **Kelusen**, **Lioness Queen**, **PrincessSolaria**, **Strength-in-Weakness**, **Lady Muck**, **wingsgirl1313**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **CT Eleczko**, and **samantha**. Feel free to review again!_

_To my anonymous reviewers:_

_**Strength-in-Weakness- **Thanks so much! This is my first fic, and I have so many ideas for quite a few... my mom's worried about what's gonna happen when I start school again, haha-_

_**CT Eleczko- **Thanks!_

_**samantha- **Well, even I'm not completely sure how it's gonna end (though I do know the last lines...) But I'm sure I'll find out soon enough!_

_And now, chapter sixteen!_

* * *

_Chapter 16_

_The Truth_

Cyne met the eyes of her friend. Blue-green met hazel, both unsteady and yet no understanding the events that had transpired.

"Cyne!" Dove was at her side. Cyne turned her bleary eyes towards her aunt, who moved her into a sitting position.

"I-I don't feel so good," she confessed. "I-" Then she reeled in the place she sat, closing her eyes. Aly barely managed to put her hand under the girl's head as she fainted.

"Blood loss," she said grimly. "She needs a healer. Now!" One of the guards dashed off as fast as he could. "Dove, she'll be fine-" leaving the girl to her aunt, Aly rose and went to her daughter, who was still staring at her friend blankly, blood by her feet. "Merle-" The redhead blinked, then seemed to recognize her mother. Tears filled her eyes as she let out a sob. As if she were two again, Aly wrapped her arms around the teenager and let her cry into her mother's shoulder as she stroked the red curls soothingly. "You did well. You did the best thing you could have, the thing that I would have-" She broke off there as anger filled her.

The thing _she _should have done. Aly the Spymaster. Her daughter should not have had to do that… the girl should not have had to take a life- foul scum as he had been- with her own hands to save the life of her best friend. The very one that _Aly _had strove to protect all these years… everything had _almost _come tumbling down to ruin the Isles so soon after she had finally quelled the rioting masses of bitter folk. She held Merle silently as she sobbed, grim thoughts that would berate her for nights to come forming in her mind.

* * *

"Maybe they should not leave." Cyne turned in her sleep and winced as the cut in her side burned. 

"Nonsense. Now, even more than ever. Merle needs her friends and something to fill her mind. Cyne should recover well in Hauji- and Brand always likes an adventure. And the less he's off adventuring in the kitchens, the better." Aly's wry voice cut through Cyne's restless dreams very well.

"I just think Cyne would be safer-"

"Maybe not," Aly cut into her queen's protests darkly. "After all, she'll be with Merle, and it _was _my daughter who saved her-"

"Don't go blaming yourself," Dove ordered sharply. "You can hardly protect two different people on opposite sides of such a room. Especially when you were supposed to still be talking with Taybur-"

"But I should have had someone else there!" The woman's voice rose in frustration. "Instead, I've had to keep my daughter in her rooms with my husband trying to console her while she's in a trance, not eating and barely responding-"

"Let her talk with Brand and Cyne, when she wakes-" Cyne wanted to speak; she wanted to help Merle, wanted to tell her aunt that she could go to Malubesang.

"Are you going to let us go?" she heard herself say at last. Both women instantly stopped speaking and went over to her as the girl opened her eyes. She was in her rooms with one very relieved Dove, one very agitated Aly, and one very annoyed healer.

"You woke her!" the latter accused, glaring at her queen and the spymaster.

"Not really," Cyne objected sleepily. "Can we go?"

"Goddess, you crack an eyelid the afternoon after gettin' stabbed and this is the first thing you say." Not realizing how much she sounded like her father, Aly chuckled. "Dove, they'll be fine." The queen shot a glare at her, then looked at Cyne.

"The trunks are packed. The cut _was _shallow, thank the gods-" A yelp escaped Cyne and she smiled widely at her aunt, who frowned severely. "That was _not _a consent."

"Please? Perhaps? A- Lady Alianne is right, I-" Then, as the events of the previous night caught up with the girl, she bit her lip and forgot her request. "What- how-Merle-" Aly sighed and looked away.

"I think you should talk to her. And maybe Brand should, too."

* * *

"I have always thought archery contests like that dangerous," the blond next to Brand giggled, and the boy bit back a sardonic comment. He knew the young ladies he had escorted were air-headed and had picked them for that particular attribute. He _had _hoped that their thoughtless chatter would fill his head and he would not have to worry about his two best friends. Instead, he was barred from seeing them and _he _was stuck with _their _frivolous talk grating in his skull. 

"But those men in them… that makes them men of danger." This speaker was a black-haired young woman who might have been beautiful to Brand except for gray-blue eyes that were as shallow as she was. "I like a dangerous, dashing man." He nearly winced at that. She looked up at him through coy, too-thick eyelashes. "Are _you _a man of danger?"

"Danger is my middle name," he answered with a flashy grin. Any of the clever young ladies he preferred to flirt with would have realized that his mind was elsewhere and attempted to regain his attention. _These _girls just giggled like little ones who had just stolen a pasty from the kitchens. To hide his irritation, he watched Nawat Crow pull the arrows shot at him out of the air.

Yes. He most _definitely _should have come here with a cleverer set of ladies-

"Brand Danger Sibigat," simpered one of them before she began giggling. Brand did not want to look at her; her hazel eyes were too much like Merle's, except that they seemed fake, like all the excitement in them was pretend. Also, Merle's eyes almost always had odd flecks of purple in them…. "And what do you do that makes you so… fearsome?"

"I flirt with lovely young women who conspire to ensnare me." More giggling. Gods above, if he had to spend another moment of this, he was going to go dump his head in the water bucket and _then _go bang on Merle's door again, as futile as _that _was-

"I should hope that none have succeeded yet," the first girl- the blond- purred. _Does she think she's a cat-? _

"Hmm…? Oh, no…." Unsure of why he bothered, Brand scanned the training court, the gardens, and the deck visible from the spot where he stood and caught sight of something that made all the tension in him disappear in favor of sheer relief. For more than one reason-

"Well, if it is your aim, Ami, you should-"

"Excuse me, ladies." Without any further explanation, Brand rushed away, around the archers, past the gardeners, and up the stairs to one of the many balconies that jutted off of the palace.

There Merle stood silently, untidy hair flying as she stared out over her surroundings, hands resting on the railing. She turned as Brand climbed the top stair, wet tears trickling down her cheeks. When he reached her side, he froze- not wanting to crowd her- and watched her.

"You- you heard, then?"

"That would be why I was banging and hollering at your door," he told her, face grim. "I'm sorry I didn't go last night-" Any other words were cut off as a soft sob left her pert lips, and she threw herself into him. He grew very still for a few moments as Merle dissolved into tears. Then, awkwardly, he hugged her back tightly.

"I don't even understand why it bothers me so much," she finally said, trying to laugh. It only made Brand sadder; she was talking it down, trying to laugh it off. It only showed him how much pain she was in.

"Because you took a life," Brand answered gently, not certain as to how to speak to his friend while she was in this state. "Scum though he was…."

"I just- he was gong to kill Cyne, and no one else-" Pulling away a little, she saw Brand lift a finger up to quiet her.

"That's another point I was going to bring up," he told her firmly, a slight frown on her face. Merle could not remember him ever being so solemn. "He was going to kill our friend. The queen's niece. The daughter of the healer of the Emperor of Carthak. However you spin it, her life is greater- better, worth more, whatever you want to call it- than the man who blasted his way in to kill your mother, the queen, and _our best friend_. You don't feel any guilt for that, do you?" She shook her head very slightly, her lips slightly parted as she looked up into his dark eyes. "What is troubling you so?" he asked, voice pained. He hated seeing her like this; those eyes were bright with tears now, not laughter-

She did not deserve this. _That _he knew.

"Just… I killed someone. Me. Merle Crow." A shaky laugh escaped her, but Brand could see she was about to cry again. Her lip quivered. "I- I know Ma blames herself. I can see, in her eyes- she didn't want me to do it."

"Of course she did," he argued. "That's our job. She just-" He sighed wearily. "She probably didn't want you to _have _to do it." As she stared up at him, startled, he reflected distantly that the flecks of purples were very prominent close up. "She doesn't want you to have to kill," he said softly. He hesitated before adding, "I don't want you to have to, either, if it gives you so much-" He stopped as a glimmer of humor entered her eyes again; it knocked his breath away.

She was calming down, thank the gods….

"Careful," she said very quietly, as if remembering how to tease him. "People might think you a friend of mine if you start talking like that."

"People will think you more than that if too many more gossips see you two hugging like that," a dry voice remarked from the doorway. Both Merle and Brand turned to see a rather feeble-looking Cyne leaning against the frame, and grinned. They dashed towards her and each wrapped an arm around her, cautious not to touch her wound.

"Gods, I feel so much better seeing you two," Brand admitted lowly before frowning at Cyne. "Gossips? Where?" A low chuckle escaped the brunette's lips as she jerked her head towards the gardens. Brand followed her gaze; he saw several of the empty-headed girls staring up at them, looks of outrage on their faces. He pursed his lips mischievously, then grinned at his friends.

"I don't suppose they'll believe me if I say that you two are friends, eh?"

"Mmm… no." Cyne's turquoise eyes narrowed as she surveyed the group. "I do say, that blond has a glare that could peel the skin." Brand's grin grew wider as Merle commented.

"Hope her face gets stuck like that." He looked at the redhead appreciatively.

"Now there's the Merle I know." She smiled tentatively, and he inwardly sighed. It would take more than their conversation together for her to get back to normal. Maybe she would never be the same again.

He hoped that- whatever she was- Merle would be happy again. Soon.

"So…." He turned to Cyne and cocked an eyebrow. "Feeling alright?" At least _her _smile was as ironic as usual.

"As well as anyone who has had their brush with death, I suppose." Then she exhaled slowly. "I have to convince my aunt that we should still go to Malubesang." Alarm filled both of her friends at that.

"That could be a problem," Brand agreed quietly. "But I'm sure that Aly will talk her into it-"

"But Lady Alianne's beating herself up about- what happened," Cyne amended hastily, stealing a glance at Merle. Brand did not miss it, and did not pursue it. He knew enough from an overeager servant who had witnessed the whole episode, including the odd bit about the storms and water…. It reminded him oddly of Cyne's Gift and what she had told them about it, but he did not want to pursue it. "So she keeps saying that maybe I'd be safer _away _from the capitol and Aunt Dove keeps telling her to stop acting like that-" She shrugged. "I know Lord Tajang and one of the young men. Damek." Merle's eyebrows rose.

"A conquest, my friend?" Cyne rolled her eyes, and Merle smiled quietly, a hint of smugness entering her features. "Handsome?"

"Anyway…," the dark-haired girl said pointedly as Brand began grinning with their redheaded friend. SOme things _never _changed... "We _could _run. Open the gates and ride through the city and meet them at the harbor. Lord Tajang will be surprised that it's just us with saddle packs, but he trusts me, I think. Just make sure you have _nice _clothes along with one you can ride in." She shot a meaningful look at her friends. "We are there to make a good impression as well as hunt for these priests. Who are now four men short."

"That's right," Brand said thoughtfully. "They were this Goddess's priests…. Did they say any-"

"The one," Cyne said, voice quick and low. "He was going on about how the goddess was going to come and all the Trickster's favored would die-"

"The one I gutted." Cyne did not meet Merle's steady gaze. "Right?" The girl nodded silently, and the three paused for a long moment.

"Well," Brand began, but did not continue. A flicker of movement caught Merle's eye.

"I think those gossips want to make their way over to overhear more," she commented, voice forcibly light. "-or they want in to share what they've seen so far." She jerked her head. "We'd better go in and pack up those bags and get them down to our mounts, then. Just in case." Brand and Cyne looked at each other; Brand nodded and Cyne relaxed. Brand would take care of Merle.

Cyne had faith in him.

* * *

After dinner, Cyne put on one of her best gowns and- ignoring a little voice that told her what had happened the first and last time she had worn such finery- made her way to her aunt's study to beg some more. Lord Tajang was scheduled to leave in about an hour; Dove had told him over dinner that she had yet to decide if the three would go. Cyne scowled. 

_Why _had her aunt been so overbearing, so- so determined to keep her here? Usually, Dove did not mind a little more danger; they would ride through the woods with none but the crows to watch. It was with these thoughts that she stopped at the door to the study and paused, curiosity growing. Dove and- from the sound of it- Aly were shouting.

"Just tell her why! So she doesn't go off and do sommat stupid! Gods, I would, in her place! I _did_, in fact! That's how I ended up here!"

"Aly!" Dove's voice was almost shrill. "Don't you _understand_?! I will not have my one and _only _heir go off on some adventure with her friends! She could get killed!" Cyne froze. Heir?

"She could get killed here, Dove!" Aly retorted heatedly. "And she deserves what she wants, anyway! She wants to explore the world she will rule someday, dammit!" Something crashed, deep down inside of Cyne. _Rule?_

"Aly, I love her." Dove's voice was small. Soft. Like a child's. Fragile and hesitant. But hopeless as a child's voice could never be. "I told her father I would take care of her. That she could be a queen. He loves her-"

_That she could be a queen- _The words repeated themselves, over and over again in Cyne's mind.

"That was the plan! Not to have her train this- this gods-cursed magic and have her taught spy work!" Dove was upset again, an edge of fury to her voice. "And you encouraged it, Aly! _Now _how am I to-"

"She will trust her friends more than anyone else in her life. She will trust her future advisors. They will be _friends_, like you and me, not just formal-"

Cyne lowered herself to the floor slowly. Was _this _the reasoning in Aly's mind? That she should have Brand and Merle as friends so they could be her _advisors_? And that _she_- she, Cyne Hetnim of Carthak- should take the throne of the Copper Isles? And her aunt had gone along with this, had never wanted her to learn what Brand and Merle had been taught, never wanted her to learn to use her Gift?

"Dove, someday they will have to protect her. They already do." Aly's voice rose in frustration. "I know it would not have been a good idea to reveal everything to her when she first came, but soon you're going to have to tell her! She needs to know before she begins to wonder about why you have no children-"

"And if she guesses that I cannot?" Dove snapped in a very uncharacteristic way. Cyne barely recognized her aunt's voice. Her aunt was gentle, quiet, loving-

Not someone using her.

Not someone trying to make her a queen-

She realized she was crying.

_I didn't want this…. _How could anyone want it? _I did not ask for it…. _She thought of her aunt and Aly concealing this from her, deceiving her-

She trusted them!

And now the truth came out.

"Does that matter?" Dove was asking, voice more weary now. "Will she even suppose that I intend for her to be the heir to the throne? She is a very clever girl, but she is very, blessedly ignorant when it comes to her future! It's almost as if she doesn't want to know!"

_I didn't…, _was Cyne's thought as she put a hand on the wall to support her body. Her forehead touched the cool stone, and she closed her eyes as a torrent of emotion rushed over her.

_I hate the spotlight…. _She would content to face into anonymity for the rest of her life, and now this was forced upon her. A life of safe boredom, underneath her aunt, standing about in Court-

Suddenly, it was obvious to her. Dove being childless, spending so much time with her, the more recent deportment lessons and introductions into Court-

She felt ill. Very ill.

And suddenly she did not want to ask Dove about anything.

In a desperate flurry, she forced herself up and sprinted down the corridor, cursing her dress as she ran, tears of fury and confusion running down her cheeks.

* * *

_AN: Poor Cyne. Yes, I know the reaction is extreme, but it is most certainly what Cyne would do. She is a calm, level-headed kind of gel, but this is just too much. She just got stabbed, and now she finds out something Dove had kept from her, something that will change her life completely... _

_And she hates attention. Needless to say, she isn't very happy at the moment..._

Stay tuned for the next chapter, out on Friday (_not _Thrusday...) _Sea Eyes_. Also, I know I mentioned Group Askew... I'm writing chapter seven- so I gotta get to work on that, after I stretch and ice and do homework and go outside on this glorious day!- and I'll probably have it up by the end of the week! Look in if you like!


	17. Chapter 17: Sea Eyes

_Triumph! The ----, ----ing, ----ing, lovely, wonderful computer is working AGAIN! HUZZA! I added another bit to this, the Aly-Merle bit. I forgot to add it before. Sorry..._

* * *

_Chapter Seventeen_

_Sea Eyes_

"Merle!" The redhead stuffed the last of her belongings into her saddlebag, scowled, and whirled around. Her glare disappeared as confusion flickered across her face.

"Brand," she said softly, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. "I had thought you were Orin, or Nolan-" She trailed off as Brand's teeth flashed in a grin.

"One of your swain, eh?" Thumbs in his pockets, he swaggered over, winking. "Sorry. Jus' me." Merle looked to her horse, a chestnut mare named Rida.

"No… I mean, it's a good thing," she told him softly. "I just don't want them saying-" She heard Brand take a few steps towards her, and she looked up.

"We never finished our conversation," he reminded her, and a well of relief blossomed in her. Though she never would have admitted it, she wanted to talk with him about it, despite not having the nerve to bring it up without prompting. And her friend seemed to understand that….

"No." He waited for her patiently.

_So unlike him, _she reflected distantly as she moistened her lips.

"Ma knows what it is to kill," she started with, unsure of what she was trying to tell him, even as she formed the words. "I feel… evil." As Brand moved forward, head shaking and mouth opened to contradict her, she retreated, not daring to meet his dark eyes. "No, listen!" To her surprise, he fell silent, though she could tell he was itching to scold her for thinking such things. "Tainted. Like there's something inside me." She shuddered.

"I don't think so," Brand told her practically. "Look at me." Reluctantly, she turned her face towards him, hazel eyes pleading with his. Stepping closer, he stared at her for a moment, then shook his head firmly. "Nope. Same old Merle. Nothing else." Clenching her fists, Merle tore her eyes away, displacing his hands as she did. She frowned slightly; when had he put his hands on her arms? She had not minded the touch, though she had not noticed it until it was gone. And now- oddly enough- she found herself missing it; the contact with another being, another human who cared for her, was comforting.

"But that makes it even worse," she hissed furiously, rubbing her eyes fiercely. She would _not _cry again. She did not want to be a sobbing mess that Brand felt he needed to take care of; that would be awkward for _both _of them. Besides, she had already done that. "That means it was _me_, that I can just-" Her frightened eyes made their way back to Brand's gaze, and something in her buckled. "I can kill," she told him lowly. "I- I don't like that feeling. It makes me feel powerful. Too strong." She was surprised when Brand wrapped his arms around her. Closing her eyes, she savored the feeling, wishing that all others would fall away and that she could just stay here and forget everything else….

"But that is just what makes you… untainted. Good, and not evil. What makes you Merle." She could feel Brand's breath in her ear as he whispered. "You wouldn't ever do it unless you were forced to, to save the life of someone you love. Do you think anyone evil would feel guilty, for such power? And if they felt evil, or tainted, would they _care_?" She shook her head as he shook his; they banged into each other, and they sprang away, clutching their respective heads.

"_Ye-ouch!_" Brand said, wincing. Merle sneaked a glance at him from behind her long lashes; he was rubbing his head with the oddest expression on his face. A giggle slipped out from her lips. Brand looked up at her indignantly, and another laugh escaped her. "I take that back," he muttered. "You are evil."

Then his mischievous eyes met hers, and they both burst into laughter.

Merle knew that he was right. Cyne was her best friend, and she had attacked to keep her safe. She had been thinking of her friend the whole time, and had never sought to kill.

As for the death, she would not ever look back on it with any pride, or fondness.

But she would not look back with regret, either.

* * *

Brand strode down the hall, whistling. Merle was waiting in Cyne's rooms, and would come and find him, whether the answer was yes or no. He had figured he might as well as enjoy himself with some of the more intelligent debutantes while he waited; he might not be back in Rajmuat with such beauties for some time…. 

The blond that had been so insulted by her behavior with Cyne and Merle was in the room, but he ignored her as she stared gravely in his direction, too dignified to sulk. Much. With a winning smile, he wandered up to a newly come out noblewoman, Lady Elaine Haele, and bowed. A smile flickered across her face, but then her features smoothed again. Brand felt gratified; listening to Merle's beaus had paid off, for once. They had mentioned that this new young woman was calmer than most, and just as lovely. He appreciated that; any more giggling and swooning, and he would be forced to practice flirting with Merle or Cyne… and he could only see too well how that would end: with him on the floor moaning, Merle glaring malevolently and Cyne trying to hide a smile. He enjoyed flirting, and wanted to stay in practice until he had found _the _girl, which was hard to seek in those packs of giggling girls. But he also valued his head, and _that _would come off if he even so much as tried to gallantly compliment one of his close friends.

"My lady. I have sought long and hard for one such as your fine self." Her cheeks flushed very slightly, but due to the sharp, narrowed blue eyes, he suspected it was more from annoyance than pleasure. Good. She had an ounce of sense, then. He chuckled. "Even more now, since you aren't swooning before me." At that, Lady Elaine smiled brilliantly.

"I should hope not," she told him dryly. "For all I know, you could be a stable hand." As his teeth flashed in a grin, he cocked an eyebrow.

"You have something against stable hands, my lady? I happen to know some very esteemed ones." If a fine lady could count Staen- who could spit on a copper from the other side of the stable- as esteemed. But Brand knew the lad well, and knew not a noble who could equal him in honesty and benevolence.

"Oh, undoubtedly…." Her face was sly, now; she seemed to be getting his measure. "But an affair with one of the cooks in the palace kitchens would be far more scandalous. And more creative." Brand chuckled lowly; he was beginning to like this girl quite a lot.

"Careful, now. I could not help you out there. The head cook chased me out of his domain with a wooden ladle, the last time I was there…."

"So you aren't a kitchen hand." He could see the curiosity growing in her eyes. "May I ask what-?" Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merle peer in, catch his eye, and scowl. He smiled inwardly; he could almost hear her thoughts.

_Of course the damn flirt is in here, he'd make eyes at my grandmother to keep himself 'in practice'-_

But then a look of urgency took over, and she waved frantically. Brand groaned softly. He had been actually _enjoying himself…. _

"Umm… sir?" Some other time, he would have been amused by her hesitance to call him by any title when she knew so little about him. Now, he was suddenly worried, and apprehensive about what was to come. He bowed to her and boldly snatched Elaine's hand before raising it to his lips.

"My apologies," he told her quietly. Merle was looking rather annoyed, now…. "Another time, my lady." Then he dashed off, glancing once behind him to see the young lady staring after him, who was looking charmed despite herself….

* * *

Merle passed her mother in the hall and smiled timidly. Relief filled Aly's eyes as she stopped to survey her daughter. 

"I am _so _sorry," she whispered, tears in her hazel eyes as she stepped towards Merle. "You- I should have been there-"

"I'm fine now," Merle said honestly, calm for the first time since she had thrust the blade into the man's back. "Really." Aly smiled watery at her daughter as they locked eyes.

"Have I ever told you how much your eye remind me of my mother?" she asked softly. "We never got along, but… while I was pregnant with you, we finally came to an understanding." She drew a deep breath. "Her eyes are purple, just like yours."

"Not completely," Merle corrected in a mutter. "They're hazel, too. Like yours." Aly laughed; the rarely bright look on her face gave Merle the courage to ask the next question. "Ma? After you made the wager with Kyprioth… did your life change a lot?" Aly frowned, puzzled.

"Well… I _had _been kidnapped and sold into slavery." Her lips twitched into a wry smile.

"I mean…." Merle tried to explain her tangled thoughts. "Did- did you do… _things_… stuff you hadn't had to do before? Did more trouble come jus' because you bargained with a god?" A dark, haunted look entered Aly's eyes, and her merry demeanor disappeared. Merle regretted asking, ruining her mother's happiness. Guilt filled her.

"Yes," she finally answered, then cleared her throat. "There were many things I had never done before, though I was prepared." She paused for a long moment, then added grimly, "Or I thought I was." A chill ran through Merle; that sounded a little too much like what her thoughts were now….

"Sorry, Ma," she said quickly, hoping her mother would not decide to ask why she had wanted to know, especially since the answer _was _rather obvious. "I need to find Cyne. Bye!" With that, she dashed down the hall, towards Cyne's chambers.

Aly Crow stood there for a long moment, face screwed up into an odd expression, partly wistful, partly curious. For a moment, some masked revelation hit her. Something deep inside realized something very, very important. But she could not tell what it could possibly be….

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. The thought would make itself known when it felt it was time for her to know. And she would just have to be content with that.

* * *

Cyne forced the tears back and wiped those that had fallen away fiercely, though she scarcely cared what Merle thought. 

_Merle. _Had her friends known? Had they concealed this from her, too? For a moment, she stopped, shaking, sensing her world as it fell apart with this thought. Then she pushed it away weakly. _No. They did not. _

She knew Merle and Brand. They were her friends, her best friends-

_Your _only_ friends, _a voice sneered.She could see the scorn of the lovely debutantes in her eyes. Any of them would have loved what Cyne had been given. Any of them would seize this chance instantly. They would be better at it, too, all perfect and witty and-

She knew her friends. They could not have-

_You thought you knew your aunt and her helper, _that terrible voice in her mind sang gleefully. _You _thought _you did. _

_And look! You were wrong. _More tears fell from her eyes, and she passed by Merle's rooms, making a dash for her own.

She was not surprised to find the redhead in her sitting room, waiting. Merle rose as Cyne strode in, hair hiding her face.

"That was quick! What is it, then?" Brusquely, Cyne pulled her hair up and turned to grab her bags, only to remember they were already with her horse. Now she had nothing to occupy her attention with-

"We're sneaking out," she said, her voice rough. "Now. Where's Brand?" She sniffed quietly.

"Cyne," she heard her friend whisper softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she hissed lowly. "Where is Brand?" She saw Merle approach carefully, a small frown on her lips.

"Cyne, you are _not _this worked up about no-" Unable to bear it, or see Merle's concern, Cyne whipped around to glare at her.

"Get Brand," she said, dangerously close to losing her control over her senses. "I'll be waiting." Then, before Merle could stop her, she walked as quickly as she could to the door, slamming it shut behind her.

* * *

"Sommat's wrong," Merle told Brand swiftly as they hurried to the stables. "She- I've _never _seen her like that." It had scared her. There was no other way to express the flurry of emotion that had rushed over her when her friend had stared into her eyes. Merle had finally understood the term "sea-eyes." It did not refer to the color, the blue and green that melted together to create that perfect shade. 

No, it meant the turmoil, the deadly pull of the tide and the violent crashing of the waves as they destroyed a ship viciously, leaving nothing but pieces of timber and the dead in its wake. She had seen all of that, in Cyne's eyes….

"Leave her alone," Brand instructed softly as they entered the stables. "Let her calm down… and we will ask some other time." He gave a soft, nervous laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "With you between me and her."

"Very amusing," Merle snapped sourly. "Cyne is in _pain_, in trouble, maybe- and we're running away. This can't be good. You know Cyne; _nothing _upsets her."

"We don't have a choice." Brand's voice was dry as he added, "Unless you'd prefer to fly across the ocean?"

"I might," she muttered venomously.

* * *

As it was, Cyne did not give them the time to question her, even if they had planned to do so. She was already mounted and headed for the palace gates. Though their horses were saddled when they arrived, Merle and Brand had to rush to catch up with her, giving her a few feet to breathe. 

There was no fuss at the gates, and their ride to the harbor was simple and quiet. The ship, the _Windsailer_, was almost ready to set sail when they arrived. It took the work of a moment for Cyne to dismount and explain quietly that her aunt had told her that they could go. Lord Tajang looked at her oddly for a moment, but then nodded, and they gave their mounts to two palace hands who had been instructed to assist His Lordship in preparing the ship.

In less than half of an hour, the captain ordered that the ship set off, and they sailed off into the darkening sky.

Meanwhile, a man with a peppered beard watched from the shadows and grinned as the palace staff walked up the street. With a flick of his hand, he summoned the horses to him. The servants continued as if they had never had any steeds in their care.

"I'll take the horsies myself," he said quietly, eyes making their way up to the palace that towering above all the other buildings. "After all, my special girls deserve a detailed account."

* * *

_(sing-song)  
Somebody's on trouble..._ Somebody's gonna get it...

* * *


	18. Chapter 18: Confession

_And I'M BACK! The day before school starts. Joy. _

_ Okay, right now I've written up to chappie 21, so I have no prob with loading chappies, though Mommie dearest will probably not let me on during the weekdays..._

_I'll update when I can, and I'll try to keep it at twice a week, but I don't know when Mom will be letting me ON the frigging computer... Defintely Fridays... And this Thrusday is a yes, 'cause we have off... (crosses fingers)  
_

_If I get five reviews by the time I get off (which is soon- Dad's limiting me, which is cruel when I haven't been on for a week and a half, the LAST DAYS OF SUMMER) I'll update again. _

_But my beta might kill me after she reads the next chapter I've sent her... I'll need protection. An armored room or sommat. Anyway, here you go... Sorry 'bout the wait..._

_Oh, also. I added a bit to chapter 17. Just a little talk between Aly and Merle. You might want to read it...  
_

* * *

_Chapter Eighteen_

_Confession_

Cyne flung herself down onto her bunk silently, dropping her belongings by her side listlessly. She and Merle were to share a cabin that had been used on the way to Rajmuat by a young noblewoman who was now to reside in Court. Brand had the honor of rooming with Damek and Lord Tajang himself. Cyne had been grateful when Brand had kicked Merle, who had been about to tell His Lordship that the three of them were quite able to share a cabin….

Merle simply did not give a damn about propriety. As far as she was concerned, they were all close friends with no romantic entanglements; what kept them from keeping to themselves and refraining from bothering others was all good. And since the impulsive redhead was _already _low in Tajang's esteem….

The man might have had a heart attack at the very suggestion.

Right now though, her friend was being more tactful than usual; she and Brand were above, watching the sky, even though both usually valued their sleep.

But right now, Cyne wished that the pair and she could switch places; _she _wanted to stare up into the dark heavens, to listen to the soothing sound of the waves lapping up about the _Windsailer_'s prow….

In a way, she was content. She felt at home on the sea, now. The rocking of the ship calmed her frazzled nerves, her ever-agitated mind….

Which led back to the cause of the worry.

Dove was her aunt. Her aunt had sheltered her for these three years. The very least that Cyne could do was ask the woman what her reasoning had been….

And now she could not. She would have to wait, and pray that Dove could forgive her….

With that resolution, she decided that she could then sleep.

But it was still several minutes before she could close her eyes, and a couple of hours before her breathing slowed, and her mind drifted into the dream world….

* * *

"Cyne?" Dove was feeling worried about her niece. She loved the girl, and simply did not want anything to happen to her. And Aly had convinced her to tell Cyne that, and perhaps then reveal her planned destiny…. 

She just hoped she had the courage to do what she had planned. Steeling herself, the queen knocked on her niece's door. There was no answer. Perhaps she was still tired from her healing… otherwise there would be no reason for Cyne to be sleeping now….

Propelled by a sudden urge, Dove grasped the doorknob, twisted carefully, and opened the door just enough to stick her head inside.

Cyne's rooms were empty. Curiosity piqued, Dove went down the hall to knock on both Merle's and Brand's doors. Neither answered, and Dove sighed. Then she chuckled. If the three of them were feeling well enough to be wandering about and- probably- causing mischief, so much the better. She would not even scold them in the morning from their escapades. She ought to be grateful, that forays into the kitchens was the only trouble she had from them.

It could be much worse.

As she made her way to her own chambers, she gave thanks to any and every god she could think of that the two girls seemed to have made a swift recovery.

* * *

When Cyne awoke, her first glance towards the door showed her Merle as sitting in a chair nailed down to the floor. Merle watched her patiently as she rubbed sleep from her eyes and sat up. It was then that her friend spoke, hands held up so that her palms faced Cyne. 

"Look," the redhead began, looking nervous. "Me and Brand are your friends. You can tell us anything. You know that, right?" Silently, Cyne nodded, wondering why on earth Merle would be saying-

_Oh. _The night before. She lay back down, willing herself to forget again.

Heir… _my _heir…. Those were the words Dove had used….

"And if you'd like to talk, just tell us." The dark-haired girl shook her head, wearily hoping that Merle saw the gesture. She did not want to move or speak. Not yet, anyway. "Just- so long as you know. We- we want to help you."

"Can you?" The soft words escaped Cyne before she realized she had said anything. She heard Merle's measured hesitation.

"I like to think so," she answered, an undercurrent of hurt behind her calm words. "Cyne, what is it? I have never seen you so-" She stopped there, but Cyne wanted to hear more.

"So what?" she prompted, glaring up at the bunk above her. "Moody? Well, maybe I ought to be. Maybe I should, just once-"

"Frightening." The quiet word silenced Cyne. "Cyne, I-"

"Perhaps you should leave me be, then," she retorted, voice thick. Her friend thought her _frightening_? Like some monster, a kraken from the depths of the dark sea?

"I'll make your excuses," she heard Merle murmur. Then the door opened and closed and quiet fell upon the small cabin.

Miserable but unable to summon the strength to get up to go after her friend, Cyne turned to the wall and pulled the blankets around her, face solemn.

When Cyne next woke, the whole cabin was dark, and nothing stirred nor made a sound save a deeply breathing Merle, asleep above her. Without a noise, Cyne wrapped herself in the blankets and stole from the room. Up on the deck, no one but a grim-faced sailor on watch with a lantern was awake. He nodded to her, and let her stand by the ship's edge, close to the soft sounds the water made.

"Jus' don't topple in," he warned her, brushing his hair out of his face. "I won't hear, 'les you start yelping. Don't be 'fraid to, now. Being in that water ain't no joke. It pulls you under." From his hushed tone, the water here was not the usual sort. But what sort of water would make a sailor cower in fear? Cyne frowned.

"What do you mean, it 'pulls you under'?" she asked. It made no sense. The man made the Sign against his chest, then leaned closer to whisper in her ear. The smell of brine and sea air filled her nostrils as he spoke.

"The Wavewalker walks here," he said lowly. "She and her kin. They are kind to sea-faring souls, but should one fall in, in her sacred ground-" He shuddered.

"That's just a tale, though. Isn't it?" she asked, worried. Shrugging slightly, he gestured to the dark sea surrounding them and the starry sky above.

"Decide for yourself," he wheezed, then turned away to make his way to the other end of the ship. The light in his hand made an eerie, misty light as space came between him and Cyne, and a chill came over her.

The wind caressed her face soothingly as she sat on a barrel by the prow and stared out. Nothing but gentle waves in sight…. The sound as they touched the ship's sides was alluringly sweet, and Cyne found herself fighting to stay awake.

She could forget here. Perhaps she could never go back. Maybe she could leave the others in Hauji Cove and board another ship, maybe to a faraway land. Not Tortall, or Scanra… they were too close. Perhaps she could pay for a voyage down to southern Carthak, then send word to her parents that she had come back….

Maybe Merle and Brand could come with her… if she could summon the courage to tell them why she wanted to leave-

"Why would you want to leave?" a soft voice echoed in her ear. Starting, Cyne opened her eyes to see a tall woman sitting on the ship's side casually. Her eyes were nearly identical to her blue-green, save for a stormy, foreboding tinge of gray that made the girl think that the woman before her was not to be crossed. Her skin was oddly tinged, neither white nor brown, though Cyne could not think of what color it would be in the light. There was a lantern, a few feet away, but its dim candlelight did not reach the woman. Only the half-moon and the stars illuminated her almost bare figure, covered only by dripping wet hair that reached to her thighs and leaves of seaweed.

"Who are you?" she found herself asking nervously. A hint of a smile crossed the woman's face.

"You already know," she replied in a voice that was entertained and teasing, but kind all the same. Her words had the taste of salt water in them, the sound of the wind and the crashing of the waves entangled, as if the they could not be parted into two separate entities. "But I would like you to ponder that. What do you fear?"

"I fear death," escaped Cyne before she could stop it. She recalled her nightmares and shuddered. "I fear the water," she said softly. "The dark water." The woman raised an eyebrow.

"Your own magic comes from it. What is there to fear?"

"I cannot control it," she whispered.

"You only think you cannot. Just as you believe there is no way for you to alter your destiny by your own will." She inspected her nails as she spoke, as if only partially interested. Then she looked back up and smiled softly. "You fear losing yourself. Losing yourself to the waves inside. Losing yourself to a throne. And thus you resort to running. Fleeing. Hiding." She shook her head. "That will not do."

"Then what will?" Cyne demanded as she foggily realized she was dreaming. The woman slid off of her perch; as she stepped into the lantern light, Cyne caught the tinge of green that glowed off of her skin.

"Trusting your friends. And yourself. Sleep," she whispered, and her voice melted into the sound of the wind that danced through Cyne's senses, until it was no more than a dimly heard noise that was no more than part of the world around her as she feel into a deeper slumber, alone.

* * *

Merle arose earlier than she usually did, rolling off of her bunk tiredly. She would feel better outside than in the small room; already her stomach was churning. 

She had never thought that she could be seasick…. She wondered where she had gotten it from. Surely not her mother _or _her father- both of them journeyed often enough without complaint….

Her thoughts stopped when she saw that Cyne's bed was empty. Relief filled her. Her friend had gotten up, probably to eat, which was good in itself. She had not touched anything since-

Since before Merle had seen her last night, when Cyne had told her that they were going. Something must have happened… with Dove, perhaps?

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Cyne had been going to pester her aunt….

But if the queen had refused to allow them to go, Cyne would have expected it. She would not have cared, save that the three of them would worry their parents and guardians when they disappeared, albeit a short time. _Then _Kyprioth would speak with them, and they would be _very _worried….

So what in the name of Chaos could have happened? Shaking her red, curly-haired head, Merle yanked open the door, wincing as the ship rocked noticeably. By the time she had made it up the stairs, she felt ready to throw herself into the ocean and drown….

She dashed to the side of the ship as the contents of her stomach came up. When she finally stopped- though her stomach still felt as though it were being shaken by a giant- she grimaced. She had had nigh nothing to eat since they got on board, and she was close to starving _now_. They had a couple of days to go, at least-!

"Two days of chucking my food up and starving," she grumbled. "Here in the hot Isles' sun." It was true. Though it was only early morning, sweat already gathered on the girl's brow, and she was glad that she wore a comfortable, sleeveless sarong.

A cool hand touched her shoulder. Yelping, Merle whipped around to see Cyne, frowning at the ocean before them. Her brow furrowed as her green eyes narrowed. Merle looked concernedly.

"What- oh gods," she muttered before whirling back around to puke again. But, before anything could leave her mouth, a cold sensation rushed from Cyne's fingertips through Merle's veins, calming her stomach as if it were a wild beast. Something spread from her feet down into the deck below, and the redhead sensed it was heading for the sea beneath. Gasping, Merle turned back to her friend, oddly aware of how her stomach had stopped swaying. "What did you _do_?" she demanded. "The Gift- you can't take away- you can't heal sea-" Cyne smiled softly at her friend's stuttering.

"I didn't heal you," she answered quietly. "I just asked the- well, I adjusted your stomach." From Merle's expression, this was not helping her understand at _all_.

"_What?_" Cyne sighed, but her eyes twinkled.

"I forged a connection between your mind- and thus, indirectly, your stomach- and the sea. Sorta makes it- in tune with it. And if your mind is connected, it will not be taken unawares by the movement of the water. I cannot explain it more than that." Then her face grew serious again, and she bit her lip. Merle reflected that the change- while alarming- was one of the most complete, immediate that she had ever witnessed in someone's face. Cyne's face seemed to tighten, and every muscle in her was tensed, while her eyes searched frantically for something in her own hazel eyes. "Merle?" she asked in a whisper. "Where's Brand?"

"He's still abed," Merle replied, frowning at the apprehension in Cyne's eyes.

"Can we get him?" Then Cyne looked away and mumbled, "I want to tell you both sommat… before I lose my nerve."

* * *

Dove frowned as she withdrew from her niece's rooms. It was not unusual for the three of them to disappear for a day or two, she reflected. But she had an odd feeling about it that she could not put a name to. 

Perhaps it was because Cyne had been trying to convince her to let them leave, and that she had suddenly stopped. Certainly, the ship had left the night before last, but-

Dove froze when she stood.

_It had left the night before last. _The queen had not seen Cyne, Brand, _or _Merle since that afternoon-

Spinning on her heel, she dashed off towards Aly's chambers. It was early.

But she was suddenly sure that her friend would forgive her.

* * *

_And I really hope you guys can forgive me for leaving off here... I gave my beta three cliffies... she wasn't happy. Anyhow... chappie 19 is ready to go... Kyprioth's Warning. Heh. Stuff getting serious. Really. It's close to done. I'm feeling optimistic...  
_


	19. Chapter 19: Revelations

_Haha, here I am, in one piece despite seeing spots, a headache of migraine proportions, a soccer game, and being shoved off of the bleachers during gym by my lovely beta..._

_Thanks to my beta, as per usual. And thank yous to all reviewers for chappies 17 and 18: **Lioness Queen**, **wingsgirl1313**, **fairydust000**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **Dream Ablaze**, **Lady Whimsy**, **Kelusen**, **PrincessSolaria**,and **sarralyn salmalin**. You guys rock! _

_Enjoy, is all I can say... dunno when the next one's coming up... Saturday, Sunday... maybe...  
_

_And some of you might have a slightly painful wait...  
_

* * *

_Chapter Nineteen_

_Revelations_

Brand sat on the chair in the girls' cabin, still trying to puzzle together what a teary Cyne had revealed to Merle and him. It made perfect sense. Dove had no children; it was probably unlikely that she would. And she needed an heir; who better than her eldest niece?

It was so simple that he was aghast he had never taken it into account before. Or what it might do to Cyne. She was a wreck over it; it did not take a close friend of hers to figure _that _out. He looked over at the pair sitting on the lower bunk. Merle had an arm around Cyne's shoulders, a sad but guilty look on her face. _Probably feeling bad for her ma's part in this, _he decided. But he could see why they had not told Cyne; that would have been a big revelation for a small girl, and Dove had been reluctant to put such a burden on her.

"Would it be so bad?" he asked bluntly. "To be queen?" Merle shot a glare at him that could curdle milk, but he ignored it. On the other hand, Cyne looked up from rubbing her eyes and blinked.

"I haven't given it much thought," she said slowly. Brand snorted. "I haven't!" she retorted hotly. "I've been thinking about how they've kept it from me and-"

"Well, give it some thought now," he interrupted and, this time, Merle shifted herself so that she could kick him from where she sat. He moved his feet. She shifted again so that she could reach. He moved again.

"I…. Stop that, Merle," Cyne said absently as she frowned in thought. "I can't say, Brand. I mean-"

"Think about it this way," he began again. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think they could have chosen a better person." Cyne flushed scarlet. He held up a finger. "You're smart-" He raised another finger. "-you care about people and what goes on-" Another finger went up. "-other people like you 'cause you're tactful and kind, so they like to do stuff for you. Thus you win allies, like Tajang-" Cyne shrank on the bed, and Brand grinned. He was having fun; he knew that she wanted the floor to swallow her up right about now. "Really, I could go on and on. How many times have we teased you about being queen-like? How many times have people compared you to Dove, who is arguably one of the greatest queens of the Isles-"

"Though we can scarce remember the others," Merle muttered, cutting him off. "And shut up, Sibigat. We should be figuring out how to defeat this Kiluji priest, not praising our friend's endless virtues and embarrassing her." Cyne blushed even more. "We can fight this out with the Jaguar Goddess, then go back to Rajmuat and deal with other… things."

"I was thinking that maybe I wouldn't go back there," Cyne muttered, then regretted it when both of her friends stared at her, shocked.

"_What?_" Merle said in a deadly soft whisper.

"Never mind, then," she mumbled. "Let's talk about Kiluji."

"Not much to discuss, really," Brand said lowly, still watching his dark-haired friend suspiciously. "He is the Jaguar Goddess's head priest. And he seems to be the type to like to do stuff himself. He would not let flunkies go ahead and do big stuff without him."

"Well, he sure wasn't at that party," Merle drawled. "I probably woulda remembered."

"They were drunk," Brand retorted. "And insane. Kiluji's probably mad, but not _that _crazed. Anyway, I figure he'll have the amulet on him, and he will want to wake Kypria himself. We get him, we get the amulet and we are done."

"We were talking to Damek," Merle added, with a sly glance in Cyne's direction. "Not bad. Quite handsome." Cyne bit her lip, then looked down. "He was saying that this shrine is by the edge of those cliffs."

"We managed to convince him into taking us down to the cliffs. Jus' for a visit to 'em," Brand explained. "For a couple o' days. We can camp close to the shrine, but not too close, otherwise we'll scare our man off. I don't know how we can watch the cliffs at night _and _pretend to be asleep, safe in the camp-"

"Leave it to me," Merle said quietly. "Trust me. I'll be able to get out." Both of her friends looked over curiously, but the redhead said nothing else.

"Our only trouble is getting there too late, then," Cyne said after a moment of silence. "Or too early."

"We won't be too early," Brand said confidently. "Kiluji wanted to get to the shrine as soon as possible. He probably set off before we did…."

"That is not very comforting," Cyne told him tartly. She was unused to being so curt, but she could hardly help it. The wound in her side did not help matters; it was beginning to pain her again.

"Well, I was wondering…." Brand seemed excited as he met Cyne's gaze. "Could you use your magic? To power the ship? Change the currents? Make us go faster?" Cyne bit her lip.

"I don't know," she answered, mulling the question over. It would be a big magic; Ysul had always impressed upon her the necessity of avoiding any possible dangers that were connected to performing such spells.

"Could you try?" Merle asked, looking worried now. "If those priests get to Malubesang before us-" Cyne winced; Merle did not have to finish. It would be trouble. She sighed.

"I'll try. I really will."

* * *

Taybur Sibigat was usually a cheerful man, for all that he was foreboding to those who knew little of him. Now, his mood was dark as he strode into Aly's study, where both the spymaster and the queen awaited him. Both women rose as he entered and closed the door, shaking his head. 

"No one has seen them since that night," he reported grimly. "Including their servants. The palace, the city- I honestly think that we should consider the possibility that they might be with Lord Tajang." Aly scowled as she glared holes into the wall.

"How would that old fool get tricked into that?" she demanded harshly. Sibigat could not help it; he flinched as the copper-haired woman rose and kicked her chair to the wall. Dove noticed and, despite her worry, she had to smile. "He's a sharp old bird, not some dung brained lout-"

A knock on the door silenced them. With a nod from Aly, Sibigat opened it. Nawat strode in, a frown on his handsome features. He went to his wife's side and kissed the top of her head.

"The crows have not seen them," he told them softly, and a groan escaped Aly. If the trio had been on the island, the crows would have known. "But they _have _been speaking of something else on the winds. About Kyprioth." Aly stilled.

"What about him?" she asked very carefully, accenting each syllable. Nawat shrugged.

"He is roaming," he answered simply. "And he is not happy. Something was stolen from him-" He hesitated. Aly raised her eyebrows.

"And?" she asked dangerously. Nawat was not alarmed; they were both upset that their hatchling had disappeared, but Nawat had faith in Merle. Merle was both like him and her mother; resourceful, talented, swift-

She would be fine.

"They are saying he has struck a wager, that he wants it back-"

It was then that Aly did something that the three in the room would never forget. She froze, becoming so still, she could have been a statue.

"Wager…." The soft word left her unmoving lips as her face paled. Her eyes lit with sudden comprehension, then a furious rage. She slammed her hand onto her desk with such a force, nearly all the papers on it fluttered to the ground. A crystal glass that housed her quills on the table fell to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces as she glared up at the ceiling. "_Kyprioth!_" she screamed. "You piece of pig dung! Show yourself!" As she inhaled shakily, fists trembling with rage, the door to the study opened one more time.

* * *

One knee leaning against the keel of the ship, Cyne closed her eyes and listened to the waves, pushing away all her thoughts, ones that were mostly dark, of late... Brand's voice broke her concentration. 

"How long do you think this'll take?" he demanded, looking around. Lord Tajang and the others of the party had retired to their beds already. The trio of friends had decided that revealing their purpose might lead to awkward questions, and had dodged any interrogation by simply saying they were not tired yet and wished to stay on deck. Cyne sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"I cannot say, but not anytime soon if you keep interrupting," she said bluntly. "Hush. This is going to take power. If you interrupt me while I'm in the middle of this-" Her worried face made everything clear; the consequences would be disastrous.

"Don't worry. I'll gag 'im," Merle volunteered, and a faint smile crossed her friend's face.

"Not necessary, I think. But thank you," she replied. Brand shot both girls a dark glare. "And feel free if it _does _seem like he wants to start complaining."

"Fine. Silence. You got it," he muttered, and Cyne smiled politely once more before closing her eyes.

She had not done such a spell before, and rarely did she do one of such magnitude. Only in exercises with Ysul, and then her Gift had been restricted, guided-

She would have to do this in the old way. Now she was able to summon magic for small spells in the blink of an eye. But this-

The water already surrounded her. It took little work for her to see it in her mind, to melt into it, to sink down-

A slight, controlled panic entered her mind as the water grew darker and darker…. She was stronger, stronger than the last time she had done this. The ocean in her mind was deeper, more dangerous-

Her panic grew, but she shoved it away fiercely. Any sort of troubled emotion would upset her power, would destroy her control.

_Come…, _she summoned her power, and she felt it grow it her hands. She opened her eyes, and heard a faint gasp behind her. But it was drowned in the roar and crash of the water in her mind-

She wanted them to go south…. She pushed her magic into the sea around her and asked it to move her- to move _them_. Instantly, the currents shifted, eager and ready in her hands. Relaxing, she let the water pull them towards their destination…. Her power flooded through her and into the world around her. She was constantly aware of the turning of the sea below her, of the sudden rain falling from storm clouds onto her face-

A hand tapped her shoulder, then pulled away, as if burned.

"That's enough," Merle whispered in her ear, and Cyne nodded vaguely, reluctant to release her hold in the water.

Sighing, she tugged her magic away from the water, back towards her.

That was when disaster struck.

Something rose up inside her and wrenched her very being- her body, her mind, her magic, her very _soul_- away, leaving it horribly mangled and weak-

With a cry of pain as she felt her power wrested from her, Cyne fell headfirst, into the dark water of the night. As she struggled, she realized what had happened, and her panic overwhelmed and conquered her.

Cyne's magic was tied to the ocean. The ocean had _gripped _it, claimed it for its own. And when she had tried to take it back, it had taken _her_, too….

_Nonono- _She floundered, sensing that the surface was just out of reach. But then the water snarled in anger, pulling her down further, as if to declare her doom.

Sound filled her head, and a bitter thought entered her mind.

_I thought that the water silenced all sounds…. _

But this was different. The silence of the water was deafening, but it was not the only sound. She could hear an odd trickling, the trickling of a lone brook…. The hiss of water as it burst from a deep hole in the ground… the muffled quiet of a morning hidden in fog… Her hands stopped fighting to swim; she only tried to block the noise out of her ears. But as she strained to ignore them, they only grew louder and louder-

Forgetting everything except a desire to be rid of the sounds, she opened her mouth to scream, and black water poured into her throat, choking her.

It was like her dreams… her nightmares…. She tried to laugh. It seemed that Shakith, Goddess of Seers, had prophesized her death, then-

Alarm took her again, and as something grabbed her, she fought back. An unbidden image of a drowned Theon entered her mind.

Dove was right. She should never have left Rajmuat-

She realized that struggling was futile. Why make it difficult for the Wavewalker and the Black God to claim her? They would not thank her for it….

She let go of her magic, letting it sink into the depths below her, where she would soon follow-

It was then that her head broke the surface, and air invaded her lungs once more. But then she sank again, unable to recognize the chance at survival that was so close-

* * *

A wide-eyed young man in the garb of a palace runner stuck his head in, eyeing Aly- obviously the most dangerous of the four- as she seethed. 

"There- my lady, a man- downstairs… in the stables…." He lost his train of thought, then blushed at his stammering and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was a little stronger. "A man has some horses, Your Majesty." He bowed in their direction. "He- he says he found them in Rajmuat." He looked away as he said softly, "The Horsemaster says they belong to Lady Cyne and her two-" He stopped when he dared a glance at the speechless group again. Aly's face was swiftly turning an odd shade of red-violet. "The man says he wishes to talk to his queen and his chosen one," he muttered, then bowed hastily and left the room as swiftly as he had come.

Aly's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Come on, Dove." Her voice was flat, and the other three could hear the anger grinding in her mind underneath her otherwise calm words. "We have a certain _god _to speak to."

"Aly," Dove began, concerned. "You're only guessing that Kyprioth-"

"No," the woman interrupted darkly. "Believe me. I know."

* * *

The copper-haired woman stormed into the stables, followed by her queen, her husband, and Taybur. Instantly, she saw her daughter's Rida. And the man holding the horse's reins….

A man with brightly colored robes, a peppered beard, and too much jewelry shining with godhood- white light in Aly's Sight- smiled. Three of the humans in the room knelt in respect. Aly, on the other hand, strode straight up to the god, fury radiating off of her.

"What have _you _to say for yourself?!" she shrieked in a way that made Dove wish she could shut her friend up. Still, an awful possibility was now taking shape in her mind… if her suspicions were correct, then Aly had all the right in the world to take her anger out on the Trickster. Not that it could impress him in any way.

Sure enough, Kyprioth smiled benevolently, as if he was a parent surveying a child throwing a tantrum.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked pleasantly. "It truly has been too long."

"_What have you done with my daughter?_" Aly snarled, eyes glittering. Kyprioth chuckled, then rubbed his hands together.

"Don't go fretting, my dear. Her job is hardly as difficult as yours was." He paused, frowning in thought. "It would take quite a lot to find two such tasks in such a short amount of time. I am quite up to the challenge, though, should you wish-"

"Of course I don't! I want you _out_!" Aly's face was bright red. "Leave my daughter out of your mad schemes!"

"Really, Aly, dear," the god continued, unperturbed. "This cannot be good for your health."

"Health, is it? I'll give you-"

"Aly, Merle even has companions. _Experienced _companions. The three of them will certainly be safer than you ever were." Taybur Sibigat and Dove froze, now realizing what their minds had refused to think before this moment.

"Cyne," Dove whispered, paling. She clutched Taybur's arm tightly. Looking mildly puzzled, Kyprioth looked at her and frowned slightly.

"Of course, my dear Dove," he answered, brow furrowed. "You could not expect to keep her locked up nice and tight forever, could you?" Softly, Dove moaned, bringing her hand to her face. "She has the hand of Fate on her, little bird. _That _shall not change; she shall control her destiny. And she shall without a care for any other path."

"Are you saying that Cyne will not inherit-" Deathly pale now, Dove fell silent as Kyprioth's grim eyes blinked once.

"Only that she shall choose what she wants," he replied solemnly.

"The- the Copper Isles shall be ruined, without an heir-"

"And you, my dear, will always be able to find another." The god closed the space between himself and his queen and kissed her forehead in blessing. "You have quite a talent for pulling solutions out of thin air. No doubt you shall have it, again." Then he pulled back from the mortals and nodded once to Aly. "Besides, those three must finish their wager. Otherwise there will not be much Isles to revolt against a queen without an heir," he stated bluntly. Then the spot he stood shimmered, and he disappeared.

* * *

When Merle saw Cyne topple over the side of the ship, she screamed, leaping forwards to grasp the sleeve of her friend's shirt for a fleeting moment. Then Cyne had plunged into the sea. Without another thought, the redhead followed, diving neatly into the dark waters with a grace that a porpoise would envy. As she shuddered into the freezing wetness, Merle prayed that Brand had called out for help. Unable to see anything in the murky water, she groped around where she had seen Cyne fall. Nothing.

Alarm filled her as she found herself near to bursting from holding her breath. Desperately, the redhead pushed her way to the surface and sucked in a breath of air before wiping the water from her face and looking about for Cyne.

Her friend was still underwater….

Swearing, Merle drew another deep breath and sank into the ocean, swimming downwards. After several moments of floundering, she touched something that vaguely reminded her of seaweed. Except that it felt more like wet hair-

_You'll forgive me for ripping out chunks of your hair later, _Merle thought grimly as she yanked hard.

Instantly, Cyne lashed out at her, struggling downwards. Every curse her mother had ever dropped in front of her running through her mind, Merle grabbed Cyne by the arm and tugged upwards, only to have her friend swimming downward-

_Does she think _that _is the surface? _she thought as she tried to reach the air above them. _I swear, when we get out of this- _

A sudden fear struck her. They might _not_. Merle could no longer hold her breath, but she fought on with Cyne, hoping that she might just be able to-

It seemed like they were not moving, though Merle could have sworn that she had brought them a few feet closer to the surface-

It would be so easy to let go of Cyne, to let her sink and rise up to the air-

_No. _She would _never _leave her friend.

But she had no more strength; darkness closed in on her, blackening her thoughts.

The last coherent realization she had was that Cyne had stopped moving. Then, as a terrible dread filled her, her mind went blank.

* * *

AN: _Muhaha! Two characters down! Who's next?!_

_Only I know. And my abusive beta. _

_Then again, that was the reason she was being abusive in the first place. Kinda. _

_(You are amazing, Kyrie... I'm just complaining... I do it a lot... lol)_

_Then again, my abusive beta doesn't even know who's surviving, because I haven't given her chappie 21 yet!_

_Did I just make anybody really nervous?_


	20. Chapter 20: Desperation

_Alrighty... I cannot promise anymore chappies until AT LEAST next Friday, so I hope this tides you all over... I _was _going to post tomorrow, but I'm gonna be at a ropes course from 10-5 and I dunno if my dear parents will let me on for those extra, spare hours..._

_Thank yous to **Lioness Queen**, **PrincessSolaria**, **Kelusen**, **fairydust000**, **Lady Whimsy**, **wingsgirl1313**, **Ginastar**, and **Pie of Doomeh** for your reviews. Love you all! And the ending is in sight! Sad, I know, but I'll probably start sommat else up soon, which will certainly have certain characters in it. I'm not done with them yet! And, to my spectacular beta: please don't kill me after you read chapter 23. That fun should be left to the readers... lol...  
_

* * *

_Chapter Twenty_

_Desperation_

Nawat kissed Aly gently. When he pulled away and she looked at him, he saw fear in her hazel eyes.

"I-" She stopped there, searching his eyes for some reassurance. "I thought Kyprioth would let her be," she whispered, burying her face into his shoulder. Nawat stroked her hair, a mournful but grim look on his face. "Goddess!" she cried, pulling away and reaching for the first thing that came to hand: a heavy, leather-bound book. She hurled it as far and hard as she could, and it thudded into the bookshelf with a satisfyingly loud crash. "I thought that I could keep her safe!" she shrieked. "Of course I couldn't! Making the same damn mistakes as my parents-"

"You prepared her," Nawat answered softly, taking her hand again and pulling her into him.

"As well as my father ever did for me," she muttered. "It was not enough-" She looked for another large tome to throw, but Nawat encircled her in his arms and kissed her neck softly.

"Please stop flinging those," he whispered. "Dove would not like her library wrecked." Sighing, Aly relaxed into him, letting all the tension drain out of her. Ruefully, she eyed the shattered vase, a victim of her wrath before Nawat had arrived.

"Probably not," she agreed heavily, running a hand through her hair. This time, Nawat released her, though he watched her carefully, as if waiting for another explosion.

"I do not think it possible to be absolutely prepared for war and danger," he said quietly. "There is nothing more you could have done for her."

"Isn't there?" Aly wondered aloud, glaring at the mess of shattered crystal on the floor.

"No," Nawat replied simply. Then he turned to the open window and chattered harshly in crow-speech. Another, fainter voice answered, and he turned back to Aly. "We are ready."

"I wish to the gods that I could go, too," she murmured. Crossing the space between them, the crow-man lifted her chin up so that their eyes met.

"Ah," he said, a smile dancing across his face. "But you are not a crow. And you must wait here and keep Dove safe, until her hatchling and yours come back to their nests." He tweaked her nose solemnly as she gripped his arm. "We will be back all too soon," he vowed. "I love you, Aly." But she made no move to release him.

"Nawat?" Moisture thickened in her eyes, making them all the more brilliant. "What- what do you think is astir? Th- those priests, mentioning that Goddess… and now this… what does Kyprioth have in store for his Isles this time?" He frowned for a long moment, thinking.

"I would think…," he said slowly. "That _this _storm is not of his making." Then his teeth flashed in the wicked grin that Aly knew so well. "Then again, if we could guess what he was about, he would not be a very good Trickster, now would he be?"

"I'd rather him be dull and bad at his job than unpredictable," Aly muttered vehemently.

"You only say that because those you love are in danger," he observed, then pulled her close to him once more. "I must go now, and we will be back, all too soon."

"Never soon enough," Aly whispered hoarsely, clutching him as though she feared he would disappear.

Nawat and Merle. They were her family. If anything happened to either of them….

She could not see how she could go on.

* * *

Merle and Cyne had been under for too long. Biting his lip, Brand paced nervously as he watched the crewmen searching in the black waters. 

They could not have held their breath for so long, they must have-

No. He blocked his thoughts as they rushed to that awful possibility. No. It was not possible. They could not have left him alone.

What had gone wrong? What could have possibly made Cyne fall like that?

And were was Merle? Why had _she _not come up to the surface-?

A dark head broke the water, and Brand shot towards the edge of the ship. Eyeing him worriedly, Damek prepared himself to hold the other young man back if need be. He hoped that his restraining Brand would not be as useless as his attempt to hold Cyne back when he had first met her-

Cyne.

Damek's thoughts whirled around in his mind at her name.

He had not spoken to her since the intruders had broken into the ballroom….

It was partly- no, _mostly_- his own fault; he had not been keen to seek her out after that. He _knew _that the odd storms and waves had come from her. He _knew _that it had been the power that she had tried to play down and avoid speaking about. He had felt it, with a strong surge of bewilderment as it stripped him of all protection….

It had not just been the physical aspect of being caught in such a dangerous position…. As her power had washed over the room- _literally_- he had felt it touch his mind, the very core of his being. Though it was as gentle and benevolent as a loving mother's touch, it ripped away everything that he had grown up knowing. Knowledge, strength, any sort of façade- it tore it away and left his soul bare for the world to observe….

It was not just any odd Gift. He shivered at the thought of it. He had always been sensitive to different Gifts; it was a rare skill that came to a few of the Gifted. It was not even the 'wild magic' that he had read about in the extensive library of Lord Tajang.

He had no idea what it was. But it scared- no, _terrified-_ him.

And thus he had left her to herself and her friends. He had not wanted to see her again, now that he had felt her so-called Gift. The power that seemed to call up everything around her for her own use….

He wondered if Ysul knew that her Gift was not as it should be. Certainly, the mage thought it strange.

But there was a _danger _to it that put him on his guard. Somehow, it brought bad tidings. As much as he abhorred the thought with every piece of his mind, he knew that it would be better for the world- _safer_- for her to drown beneath the unfeeling waves.

Thus, it was with a mix of feelings that surprised him in their depth that he watched Cyne's limp body rise to the air, and then sink again. Both he and Brand started forwards, only to have the gruff captain grab them both by the arm.

"There!" a man shouted, and a swimmer was to her side with a few strong strokes. It was with another seaman's help that he dragged her to the rope ladder that hung off the side of the ship. Carefully, they pulled her up onto the deck and, as they lowered her to the wooden planks, she coughed up a mouthful of water, then sucked in a deep breath that only made her cough more.

"Thank the Gods," Damek heard someone mutter. He was not sure who it had been: Tajang, Brand, the captain, or himself….

"Merle!" Brand pointed an hand towards the spot where Cyne had emerged. "She's there! She must be!"

"How long did it take for her to disappear after the lady Cyne?" the captain demanded curtly as the watchman who had been on guard when Brand had called the alarm propped the weak girl up. She had yet to open her eyes- Brand could not recall a moment where he had felt more helpless.

"A minute or so," the young man answered, the air around him suddenly too hard to take in, as if he himself was the one underneath the uncaring waves.

"Are you certain?" The captain's eyes were steady, almost inhumanely so. "It might mean her life."

"Gods, I don't know!" Brand's panic was evident as he strode forwards again, scanning the water. "How could I?" he asked softly.

"Brand?" the quiet murmur made him whip around instantly; Cyne was awake. She coughed feebly; more water fell from her mouth. "Where- Merle-"

"She went after you," he heard himself say. The hollow words cut him painfully. "She- she should be-" He forced himself to say the words. "-above the water now… and-" His voice cracked. "-she-she… isn't." He blinked rapidly; one droplet of water fell from his eye as he knelt next to his friend. Cyne looked as stricken as he did. Then she frowned, brow furrowed. "Cyne… what-" He saw the gleam of her turquoise magic- darker than before- flash through her eyes and fade. Then a pain clouded her eyes as she looked at him desperately.

"I- I can't summon it," she whispered weakly. "I can't. It- I need more strength. It's- down… there." Brand's eyes narrowed, and he frowned before grabbing her wrist.

"Take it," he hissed, hoping no one else heard. Cyne's eyes widened, but before she could protest, Brand cut her off. "Don't you dare refuse. Merle is- could be-" He choked on his words. _Could be dying…. Could be dead. _He could not continue, but Cyne understood. A fear entered her eyes, a fear that reflected all her conflict-

"Ysul warned me," she murmured. "-that my Gift is different. It could- _take_- anyone whose strength I try to-"

"_Could,_" Brand muttered. "And Merle-" He forced the word out. "-_dying_­-" He flinched as he said it; it was too painful to wrap his mind around the concept. "-is probable- _certain_­-" Resolve hardened in Cyne's eyes. She grabbed his hand and tightened her hold around it.

"Brand- if this-" He squeezed her freezing hand tightly; she was shaking from the cold. "If it doesn't work-"

"Dammit, Cyne!" he snapped. "_Now!_"

He recoiled as a tendril of magic shot through him and gripped his mind. But it did not release him; its hold only strengthened as it drew all his energy away from him.

He felt his sight shift away from Cyne and the sailors dashing about, shouting-

Visions grabbed him and whisked him away from his world. There was a storm, a storm tearing a ship to shreds on the sea- There was a streak of lightening that tore the sky apart- He was underwater, struggling in the hold of tiny wisps of seaweed and the ghosts of the drowned-

_Is this how Cyne feels when she uses her power? _he wondered numbly as he felt his mind border on the edge between life and death, exileration and fear-

He was going to die….

_Or, at the very least, be bedridden for some time, _a small, wicked part of him commented wryly. He almost smiled….

But then any mirth faded as he sensed the water around the ship, around them, where Cyne had been in the ocean-

There was not a whisper of life. He winced as he felt Cyne bear her will down on the sea, cringed as she ripped the water to pieces in a frenzied search that tore the ocean away from the sea floor, letting the air sink into places it had not been seen the creation of the world-

There was nothing. Nothing alive. Nothing at all.

* * *

Aly watched as Nawat and his fellow crows took off at a strong if slow pace across Rajmuat. They would cross the ocean easily; she knew that in her heart. 

She only wondered- dreaded- what they would find when they arrived on Malubesang.

* * *

Cyne closed her eyes as they sailed into port. True enough to their plan, the ship had sighted land this morning and now- near to noontide- 

Of course, she had had to fall into the sea as she carried out this clever plan-

And Merle had leapt in after her.

_Merle. _

Brand was still asleep, thank the Gods. She did not want to be the one to tell him, though she suspected he knew. She had sensed his presence as she had searched the water without reserve; even the captain stared at her uneasily now….

But that did not matter. She could hardly care.

Merle was-

_No. _She stared up into the sky, determined not to look at the water- at the dark sea- ever again.

She should have known better. She _should have _been more careful. The ocean was not her tame pet, not something that obeyed her every whim….

She should not have been so close to the edge of the ship-

She should not have struggled against whatever had been pulling her- surely that had been Merle-

Unnoticed tears slipped down her cheek from her over-bright eyes.

"Cyne?" She stiffened. Brand. Very slowly, she turned to him, and her mind and resolve shattered.

He looked lost. For a moment, she had seen a glimmer of hope in his eyes, only to disappear as he saw that only she stood on the deck. But even now there was an imploring wish he would not speak; he wanted her to tell him their fiery friend was still resting, was still asleep-

And not sleeping beneath the waves.

She swore, a sob tearing from her as she did, and Brand's eyes went wide.

So he had known, then. He had just been hoping, as she had been-

Hoping that, somehow, Merle would break the surface and laugh at their shock….

He crossed the space between them in a stride, and he pulled her against him tightly as he began to cry. She wrapped her arms around him as racking sobs tore through him.

"Damn stubborn-" Then the tears erupted from her yet again. "My fault," she managed as she shook. "My stupid, stupid fault…."

* * *

**AN: Short, I know... but necessary. Next chapter- or the one after that- is verra long. And then after that there's a verra exciting chapter, which makes up for the medium length...**

**And don't kill me OR jump to any conclusions. No conclusion jumping! I'm not done yet... Just- patience. I like patience. As long as it's not me who has to be patient... ;D**

**Next chapter up is chapter 21: Surprise. **

* * *


	21. Chapter 21: Surprise

_AN: Haha... I decided to not prolong any agony. I got eight reviews in less than 24 hours... though I didn't want to post two days in a row..._

_Thanks to **KyrieofAccender**, my beta, who has born through all of my evil cliffies and all of my... other- evil tendencies. Though I can't think of any at the moment. Except for my morning cheeriness, which all you lot think ought to be court-marshalled, despite that it provides daily entertainment. Go figure. And thanks yous to all reviewers;** PrincessSolaria**,** Lioness Queen**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **Kelusen**, **Kathy**, **wingsgirl1313**, **fairydust000**, **Ginastar**, and **C. T. Eleczko**.  
_

_ So here you are; as the chappie title hints, surprises galore. _

* * *

_Chapter Twenty One_

_Surprise_

Damek glanced at the two, stony-faced friends as they left the ship, not once turning back to admire the beauty of Hauji Cove. 

He did not blame them. The sight of it- which often filled him with relief and peace- made him sick now.

It surprised him when the first thing Cyne asked of Tajang was horses for a ride to the shrine that Merle had mentioned. Unsettled and unsure of how to deal with the young woman's obvious pain, the old man had agreed, almost immediately and ordered mounts to bring them. He only shot a worried glance at Damek as he insisted that the youth go with them.

They nodded wearily; arguing seemed to hold no appeal for either.

At first, Damek had wondered at the lack of any sort of guard as they left the city through the path that led straight from the ports to the high cliffs upon which the small shrine was. Then he remembered Cyne's 'Gift' and how it had left his foster uncle in awe of the girl. Surely, with that, she needed no escort, save to show her to this shrine that they were so grimly fixated on.

He had no idea why they cared so much about the old thing, but he would gladly help if it would lessen her pain. _That_, at least, he did know.

* * *

If Nawat had not been flying in crow's form above the sea, he would have frowned in puzzlement. He had expected to catch up with the _Windsailer _by now. In fact, _long _before now. Still, he had caught sight of nothing on the horizon but a small fishing boat…. 

Mentally, he sighed as he sped up slightly. They would perch on the boat for a time to regain their strength. It was headed towards Malubesang, anyhow.

And, as soon as was possible, he and his brethren would fly south as fast as was possible.

* * *

Cyne watched their surroundings dully, aware of all the beauty around her- the very sights she had wanted to see while in Rajmuat- and not caring at all. 

All she wanted to do was finish this damnable wager with the Trickster and leave the Isles forever, whether Brand wanted to come or not.

She never should have left Carthak. She could go back….

And tell her father she was never going to use her Gift again. _That _would go over quite well….

But she had lost a friend- nearly two-

Brand had been so close to death when she borrowed his own strength. Only Damek shaking her had brought her back, had broken her hold on her friend. If he had not slapped her-

She shuddered as a loud crow call echoed through the woods. Nawat had thought it a good idea for all three of them to learn the language years ago….

_Friend, friend, friend- _was the call. She ignored it as their horses slowly followed the path, Damek in the lead.

The jungle's growth was spectacular, the leafy branches sweeping over the paths to shelter it, creating a natural canopy while flowers and vines wrapped trees in strangleholds.

"Um…," the youth's low voice cut through the crow's calls. "We're almost there. Just around the bend…. It's on the edge of the cliff, so be careful-"

_Be careful_. Brand nearly snorted with scorn. What did he care?

When Damek dismounted and began to lead his mount, he did the same, conscious that Cyne was still on her horse.

Then, suddenly, there was a break in the trees, and Brand's mouth dropped open in shock.

It was a lovely clearing, with a view of the glittering, blue sea. The ground simply dropped away a few feet after the seven-foot high statue of a gorgeous, ethereal woman who looked to the east with a severe gaze that was filled with miserable longing and dangerous hate all in the same look. A carved jaguar rested at her feet….

Kyprioth had described her as well as anyone could; but he had forgotten the surge of power that filled Brand as he stared. It was a mix of feelings, all indescribable and capable of knocking him to his knees-

Then again, perhaps it had nothing to do with the statute and cage of the Jaguar Goddess, Queen of the Isles.

Perhaps it had to do with the wet redhead lounging at the feet of the statue, a smirking grin crossing her face as they locked eyes.

* * *

Aly started as she entered her study and saw the figure in the corner of her eye. Then she frowned and stalked over to her desk, where she poured over reports studiously, not really paying attention to whatever they were saying. 

Finally, a deep voice said, "Really, Aly. Ignoring me is just a tad bit childish, is it not?"

"Perhaps it is," she replied spitefully. "But it makes me feel just a tad bit better, too." The Trickster chuckled, and she leveled him with a steady glare. "Where is my daughter?"

"Right now?" The god tossed a coin up into the air and caught it expertly. "On Malubesang. Enjoying a lovely day on the cliffs. Giving her friends a rather nasty shock." Then he paused, thinking. "Well, it is probably a welcome shock, but certainly a rather large shock all the same." He threw the coin up again. "I have a bet with the Graveyard Hag that ol' Brand won't be able to speak for a few minutes. She says he won't be able to do anything but stutter for a couple of days. I said, no chance. He's far too fond of the sound of his own voice. Rather like me, that way." Aly shot him a deadly stare.

"I hate when you talk cryptically," she said softly. "Mind telling me straight why my daughter's shocking her friends?"

"Hmm…." Kyprioth pursed his lips, and then grinned. "Nope. Not really. But I think you might mind after I tell you, so I'll be telling you the important things that need doing first." Aly's eyes narrowed.

"Hurry up."

"Check into the murder of Theon, will you?" he asked casually. Aly cocked an eyebrow.

"You care about delivering justice for that scum?" she asked. "True be told, I'm shocked _you _had nothing to do with it…."

"Who's to say I didn't?" he volleyed. "Besides, that isn't what I care about. I would expect an intelligent gel like yourself to figure that out yourself. Into his dealings, right 'round his death. You might find shocking correlations to those gate crashers who stuck a knife in your charge's back." Aly's hazel eyes darkened; she did not particularly like to recall that night, for several reasons-

"Anything else?"

"Well, aside from the louts who are banging on the gates now, demanding to be let in to kill the queen...," he said cheerily as hurried footsteps sounded from down the hall. "Who, by the way, are from that very same group who caused all that trouble that I just mentioned-"

An out-of-breath messenger rapped on the door, then stuck her head in when a bewildered Aly called for the report.

"Men dressed in the same robes as those from the ball the other night are here, threatening Queen Dovasary," she said swiftly, then disappeared to dash down the hall towards Sibigat's study. Aly swore, then made her way to the door.

"Oh, and Aly?" The god's voice was almost sing-song. "About why Merle was causing all that fuss?" He paused for dramatic effect, and succeeded in making Aly glare at him.

"Spit it out," she told him, eyes glinting. "I've got fools to interrogate."

"They thought she was dead," he said, then disappeared in a cloud of silver mist.

* * *

It had not taken much effort to disarm the robed men shouting curses and words of doom at the palace gate. Now, Aly was shoving one of the survivors' heads into the wall as she demanded answers. Taybur Sibigat winced; he had never seen her use such violence on prisoners. She was clearly at her wits' end. 

"Dammit all, why do you want the queen dead?" she snarled. The man only laughed.

"We were few," he panted, apparently not at all concerned that the woman holding him could kill him in a moment. "Now we are many. We shall plague, plague this reign of the Trickster! Kypria shall rise!"

"Kypria," Sibigat said softly. "The Jaguar Goddess. She-"

"I know!" Aly snapped. "The mage at the ball mentioned her, too! They want the Trickster's supporters dead and want his sister to rule the Isles again!"

"Then why are you asking why they want Dove dead?" Sibigat asked patiently. Aly only glared into the wall, shaking the man she held for good measure. "Aly…." He sighed. "Let me take over for a few hours. You look… overwhelmed." She frozen, then looked over at him, clearly at a loss for words. Feeling encouraged, he continued softly, "Just let me have a talk with them, and I'll find out why they've started beating at the doors all of the sudden. I-"

"You're saying I can't do my job, is that it?" Aly's face was emotionless; she surveyed him without a word.

"No…." He struggled to find something reassuring to say. "I mean, everyone needs a break, and you are worried, and-" Aly's eyebrows rose.

"And you are not?" she asked tartly. "May I remind you that _your son _is with my daughter and the he-" With a look at the man whose face she was forcing into the wall, she amended, "-their friend?" She would not dare tell anyone that Dove's niece was missing, though rumors were flurrying about in Court about the sudden disappearance of the trio. Aly could only thank the Gods that- despite the odd circumstances about this time- not seeing them for a few days was not the greatest oddity. After all, there were scandals and gossip to speculate more about than the three young missing nobles who were very often missing.

Sibigat's eyes narrowed in frustration. What was the woman thinking? He kept on thinking about Brand, wondering where he was, what he was doing-

Gods, he could barely give his work the attention it demanded! He had nearly got gutted on a handy blade one of those priest-men had been carrying! His mouth twisted grimly.

"Just go, Aly," he said tonelessly. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip.

"Goddess… I did not mean that, Taybur. You know I didn't. I'm sorry-" She trailed off, then inhaled slowly. "Yes. Maybe I should not be doing this right now." Without another glance at the captive, she stepped away and let Sibigat take charge, starting with a calm inquiry of how the man was feeling and then kindly leading him down the hall towards the study where truth serums were waiting to be used.

* * *

Merle casually eased herself into a standing position and waved. Brand could not believe it; he could not breathe. 

He could not believe that she was standing in front of him. It was not possible. It was some cruel trick of Kyprioth, who had forced them into this damned position in the first place! Speechless, he watched as the sun played in the strands of her gleaming hair, as she strode up to him, grin now wading.

"What?" she asked softly, her voice low, concerned but still simmering with irony. "Too disappointed to see that I'm alive, then?" He sprinted up to her, and then pulled her against him, breathing in her scent.

It had to be her. Not even a god could think of saying that. No god could be that cruel. At least, he was fairly sure….

"Merle, I swear," he whispered in her ear. "If you were me and I were you right now, you- I- I'd beat you into the ground." She laughed; it was a bright, musical sound that seemed to lighten the very air around them. He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze.

It was quizzical, though faintly amused.

"You could not have thought I was really dead," she said, but it was a question. He shot a stern glare at her.

"What else could we think?" he retorted hotly, but any anger was suddenly forgotten as her hazel eyes bore into his. His pulse quickened and, subconsciously, he inclined his head towards her-

"Merle!" Both of them toppled as Cyne ran into them. The three fell into the grass. For a moment, they looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

As Cyne laughed, laughed with relief and joy and even a tinge of hysteria, she caught sight of Damek watching them oddly, his head tilted to the side as he stared at her. She grinned at him, and a faint smile came to his lips. But she saw worry in his eyes.

A worry that troubled her.

* * *

"Is this what you wanted us to figure out?" Sibigat asked, voice cold as he watched the pacing Trickster. Aly's eyes smoldered dangerously as she read the report. "That a dark-haired young woman apparently killed Theon? That she was rummaging through his belongings?" 

"Looking for something," Aly said icily as she glared a hole into the wall. "She stole something. Are you _certain _you cannot say anything else?" Kyprioth shrugged.

"You already know that Kypria's worshippers want to free her… that Theon died under questionable circumstances…."

"So what was Theon involved in?" Dove asked as she watched the troubled god. "He was a Mithran, hated you and undoubtedly your sister, too. And why aren't you with Cyne and the others now? They _are _helping you… so why are you here?"

"I cannot go to them until they have left… the place they are now," he retorted. "And I will not be able to go there until all binds have been broken."

"So there is an enchantment? Where they are now?" Dove prompted. "A bind that a god cannot break?"

"Obviously," Kyprioth said tartly, and Aly leapt to her feet, eyes gleaming.

"Where you locked her up," she breathed. "They are there." Then she shot a glare at him. "Where-" The Trickster stared at her loftily.

"If I could, I certainly would have mentioned something by now," he said.

"I'm not as sure," Aly muttered. "So the priests are trying to break her out of her imprisonment… and my daughter and her friends are trying to stop them!" She whipped around and threw her arms into the air. "You fiend!" she cried in fury, kicking her desk.

That was a mistake. She bit her lip as pain surged through her foot.

"You've put them in some isolated place where they will be up against madmen!" she yelled. Then she turned to Sibigat. "Get Ysul to contact a mage in Tajang's pay," she ordered, voice harsh. "Tell the man to keep them safe, at all costs!"

"I have tried that already," Sibigat replied, voice quiet and firm. "Ysul told me he cannot."

"Of course he cannot," Kyprioth muttered. "I could have told you that. The Great Gods are preparing for trouble. The air is too thick with our power for any Gift to work well, even if none of us can converge on the danger yet." Dove paled.

"Cyne! Gods, she won't even be able to summon her magic to protect her!" A dark chuckle escaped the god's mouth, and the queen stared at him in surprise.

"I would not worry about that," he told her wryly. "I would not worry…."

* * *

Once they could catch their breaths, Merle explained that she had somehow found herself near shore and had made it there before locating the shrine. Then she had decided to wait there, since she had decided that if Tajang thought her dead, that she could wait here freely. 

"Doesn't make up for what you put m- _us _through," Brand muttered.

"Why do you need to wait here?" Damek asked softly, puzzled. The three friends exchanged glances, and Cyne nodded. They could use another mage's help, anyway. And he could convince Tajang to leave them to their own devices…. Brand began to explain their journey and mission, and found that Kyprioth's power was no longer binding them to silence. He frowned as he finished the tale.

"That's odd," he said slowly. "Why-" He looked over at Cyne. "You could not speak to Dove, right?" The brunette nodded. "So why-"

"Maybe now that we are on our way and cannot be stopped…." Merle shrugged. "It hardly matters, I suppose. Maybe here, near this-" She jerked her head towards the statue of the foreboding Jaguar Goddess. "Kyprioth's power cannot work. After all, he cannot come anywhere near here…." She faded off, then paled. "Damn. I had not thought about that until now. He cannot go saving us now…."

"Maybe we ought to head back," Damek said quietly. "Or, at least, get away from here…." Cyne frowned at him.

"Why would we want to do that now?" He bit his lip, then looked up into her eyes.

"I have another theory," he said, voice low and nervous. "When age-old bindings break, everything in this world and the Divine, get just a bit crazy. And when the keys to breaking bindings are close together, that is when everything gets haywire. Of course, the moment that the binding is broken, the magics will return to their normal state... but God magic is too heavy-too close, too strong- for it- or the Gift, or wild magic, for that matter," he added darkly. "-to work." Cyne's eyes widened in surprise, shock, and horror as she realized what Damek was saying.

Merle only frowned.

"You're being as cryptic as a god," she accused, pushing her red hair behind her ear. "What-"

"What he means," Cyne whispered. "-is that the amulet is close. Too close."

* * *

_AN: Starting with next chappie, I will be leaping, back and forth between Aly and Nawat and Cyne and Tajang... I think this is the last real cliffie. I think. Wait, no. I lied. I wrote that before I wrote chappie 23. Man, I gotta tell you, I was nearly wringing my hands when I finished it and sent it off to my beta... She said that if I hadn't sent the end to her already, she might have... done sommat, I forget what. She threatens me too much, lol... But after that, no more..._

_Well, then again, my last chappie-_

_Well, I won't be going into that. Suffice it to say I'll leave you wanting more. Hopefully._ ;)

Next time, things get exciting... with Chapter 22: Plans!

But not **really **exciting. You are gonna have to wait _one more chappie_ after that one... ;D


	22. Chapter 22: Plans

_One reader confessed to confusion, and I don't blame them. So, to straighten things out for anybody scratching their heads and staring vacantly at the screen...  
YES, Merle is alive. And the whole idea about the **Gift**, **God magic**, and **wild magic** not working is rather important. The reason for this is that there is an ancient, magical binding (this sort of God magic strengthens with time) that is about to be broken. Power magics at work. When the amulet (which is the key to releasing this all-powerful spell) is close to the shrine, any other magic kinda gets cancelled out..._

_Thank yous to **PrincessSolaria**, **Kelusen** (I'm pleasantly surprised that I can affect people so in my writing... it makes me feel special, lol...), **wingsgirl1313**, **fairydust000**, **Ginastar**, **sarralynsalmalin**, **CT Eleczko **__(as you can see, I have updated soon...)__, **Lioness Queen**, **Pie of Doomeh **__, and **Dream Ablaze **(for numerous reviews, lol... keep 'em coming!). And my amazing beta.  
_

_Chapter 22_

_Plans_

They silently made a swift dash for the path that would lead back to Hauji Cove. Now that the spell was broken, they could explain to Tajang and have mages and soldiers fight these priests-

Brand had a firm grip on Merle's wrist as he pulled her along. She had wanted to stay behind and watch; he had said no chance, even before Cyne could think over what their friend had said. He was not about to lose one of his best friends _again_. Never again. They could explain her miraculous survival easily to Tajang, and then they could tell him about their quest, have him call his city guard, and stop the Jaguar Goddess and her followers.

As a satisfied, grim smile made its way across his lips, shadows rushed out of the forest and, before he could react, something hit him in the head and he fell, eyes closing as he hit the dirt.

* * *

"How are they supposed to stop a group of maniacs?" Aly asked for the tenth time, pacing in her study. Sibigat and Dove had not moved from their places. Kyprioth had not, either. He frowned at the copper-haired young man, as if he was finding her frustratingly dense. 

"They aren't. That is not the plan, Aly."

* * *

Merle and Cyne stared in terror at the man in the now-familiar robes as he clutched an unconscious Brand. 

"Come out from the horses," he ordered in a hoarse voice, his lips curling in a fiendish smile. "And then my friend is going to bind you." Damek shot a glare into the surrounding woods. There were two other men, ropes into their hands. And the knife in the speaker's hand was too casually held, when it was lingering over Brand Sibigat's exposed neck. Still, he was surprised when Merle and Cyne stepped forwards without hesitation. Sighing inwardly, he wondered what madness had brought him into this. He wondered what god he had ignored all these years in his prayers. Which one had decided this would be amusing. Then he strode out to stand next to Cyne. The leader of the men scarcely glanced at him as he gave his order to his henchmen. "Tie 'em up."

* * *

They could have fought, but the chances of Brand getting hurt were too high. Cyne would not ever risk a friend's life recklessly again. It was these thoughts that she repeated over and over again in her mind as her hands were tied up behind her. After Damek and Merle were secured, Brand was slung over one of the mounts carelessly. Merle had almost shouted at the men, but Cyne silenced her with a look, worried that they might just kill him there and then. The leader was whistling a jaunty but indistinguishable and off-key tune. Then a wildly wide grin spread across his face. 

"Kiluji was right," he said in his scratchy voice. "We found the brats, so the shrine must be somewhere nearby." All three comrades stiffened.

They did not know where the shrine was!

Then again, Cyne _had _stolen the map….

Theon must not have shown it immediately to Kiluji. Cyne wondered if he had expected a double-cross, though the man had not struck her as that clever….

"Friku has gone to fetch Kiluji," the other man said lowly. "I could not send a mage-message." Merle grinned savagely. At least everything was not going completely their way…. He fixed her with a steady glare. "What do you find so funny, beautiful?" The redhead froze, and he chuckled lowly. "That's right. Remember what I could do…." He draped a hand on her shoulder, and she shuddered.

If her mother could only see her now…. Those men would never have known what had hit them.

It was close to sundown when the three looked up to the crashing of underbrush. Damek pushed away half-hopes that Tajang had sent someone to look for them; after all, he would have used the path, and would not be trampling through the jungle's undergrowth….

A wiry man with a grim face and a long, black beard led them. Damek knew instantly that this had to be Kiluji, the head priest Cyne and the others had spoken about. The man had a Gift that was tainted, touched by God magic… though his mind had obviously not been strong nor worthy enough for it. He was unhinged, dangerous….

When he saw the large group following the priest, he nearly groaned aloud. How were they to do anything…?

_Fifteen… twenty… another five… thirty. _Cyne's stomach sank as she saw others coming towards the already substantial numbers. How could they possibly do anything against so many…?

"I know where She is," Kiluji said in that soft, slow voice that sent chills through her. "Come." His eyes flickered over the four prisoners. "I see you have picked up another recruit. A rather disappointing turn-out from the Trickster… it is clear that he certainly is unworthy of these Isles." He waved at them without interest. "Bring them."

Uncaring hands grabbed Cyne and pulled her off through the darkening trees as some of the men began chanting lowly in Kyprish. She winced and closed her eyes, trying to block their voices out.

"She is coming, her day is here, Kyprioth's sun has set- Kypria shall rise! Kyprioth and his chosen shall fall!" She could only imagine what they had in store for four hapless youths who had gotten trapped and tricked into this trouble.

"I swear when I enter the Black God's Realms, I will beg him for a few years of torturing Kyprioth," she muttered. "I'm certain that the Goddess and Mithros will side with me…."

"Ha! A few years!" Merle was glaring furiously at Kiluji, who was almost hidden from view. "Several centuries at least. By the gods, if we die here, I'll go into the service of Chaos to heckle him!" She swore a loud, long string of curses that might have impressed her father and shocked even her mother. A nameless priest smacked her head as their group came to a halt. The men in the front must have reached the shrine-

"Silence!" he ordered in a commanding, imperious voice that made Cyne wince. She knew that such a man would only infuriate her friend further. Sure enough-

"Me?" Merle snapped. "You are telling me to be silent, you old fat toad?! Well, priest or not, I think you're a dung-brained, fumble-fingered lout who could not strike a heavy blow for his life!" He hit her again. This time, the redhead stumbled slightly, but stood straight back up again, her hazel eyes glinting dangerously. "Hitting a young woman with her hand tied behind her back! Who were you ordained by, anyhow? Whoever it was obviously had no sense at all, let alone a sense of-" He shoved her to the ground, and Cyne started towards Merle, only to be yanked back by the man holding her. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself not to struggle. She needed to wait, wait until they were no longer of any interest, before they tried to escape-

"I was brought into this most holy sect by Kiluji himself," he bellowed. "A wretch like yourself-" Merle only snorted; despite that she lay sprawled on the ground, she still managed to be the picture of disdain.

"Oh, well _that _explains everything," she declared sardonically, ignoring his insult. "I ought to have know that anyone that ass of a bastard accepted would be as bad as he is-" He kicked her in the stomach, and her jaw tightened. She refused to cry out.

"The next word you speak," he said lowly, his voice mixing with the chanting. "Your friends all get a ear slit off." He pulled out a dagger, and held it tauntingly close to Merle's pale face. Her eyes flickered from Cyne, who stood deathly still, to Brand, who was still unconscious. Cyne could hear her friend's voice in her mind.

_Threatening others held captive to shut me up. Now, does that mean you're too fat and lazy to beat me… or just afraid that these ropes might come loose while you take your rage out on me?_

But Merle only stared coldly into the man's eyes, the purple flecks in her eyes very prominent. They burned with suppressed rage, an urge to take the coward by the neck and throttle him. Finally, it was he who looked away.

"Just remember that," he told her, trying to maintain a dignified front as he left her in the hands of a comrade. A bitter, sarcastic smile played across the girl's lips.

Then, when he disappeared into the crowd, she spat disgustedly on the ground.

* * *

"What do you mean, 'that is not the plan'?" Aly asked sharply, eyes narrowing. Kyprioth sighed. 

"Really, it would be better for you to trust me and not try to figure this out."

"I do not believe you." Aly's voice was flat. "Neither would I trust you ever, in any circumstances." He sighed with the air of a Player.

"How you wrong me," he said dramatically. Aly was not amused.

"Dammit, Kyprioth, just tell me." The Trickster rolled his eyes, obviously tired of being pestered.

"I warned you," he told her in a mild voice, then cleared his throat. "Aly, the idea is not to defeat these men and prevent my sister from rising.

"It is to let her think she has won, and then take back what is mine. It means releasing her, and then imprisoning her in a bind that shall perhaps never be broken..." Dove's face was as white as her face could be.

"But… if they are caught," she said softly, her voice stuck in her throat. "If Kypria- the old legends- she needs-" The words would not come, though her mind repeated them, again and again.

"Blood," Sibigat finished, voice far away and detached. "If she comes back, there will be blood."

* * *

Cyne kept stealing anxious glances at Brand, who had not moved at all. She was worried; Merle was worried. 

What if he had been hit too hard? What if-

All thoughts were postponed as a distant voice shouted. The cry was picked up as it spread through the crowd, which was turning towards them.

"Bring them forward! The Most High wants them!" Merle could not help but roll her eyes.

"His titles just keep coming and coming, don't they?" she muttered and, this time, Damek was close enough to step on her foot firmly. Cyne shot the youth a grateful look; though she was more worried about Merle being hurt, she had already decided she was quite fond of her ears and would rather keep them than mock their captors.

Instantly, they were ushered forwards, one man pulling the reins of the horse Brand was flung over. Merle kept shooting anxious looks over at him.

He looked so peaceful, an enormous contrast to the scene around them. A lock of his dark hair hung between his eyes, and the many, scattered golden strands on his head glittered in the torchlight that they passed.

Then, the crowd before them parted, and she was thrown carelessly to the ground. Cursing, the redhead glared at her surroundings, painfully aware that her knees were grinding into the hard, rocky soil. The first thing that she registered was the cold, aloof statue that she had rested underneath for many hours, waiting for her friends.

The second was the glare of the sinking sun; its rays were all the sharper now, when the great orb of light was about to surrender to the sea and the night. They pierced her sight, leaving spots in her vision as she closed her eyes.

The final detail that she could not ignore- though she strived- was the manically grinning priest before them, dagger in one hand, and amulet in the other.

* * *

Lord Tajang paced on the balcony that jutted off of his chambers, frowning. His face was grim, and his fingers drummed against his sides as he looked out over the bay. A haze of violent color streaked the sky, and the red sun sank into the west.

* * *

Kiluji surveyed the trio at his feet, studying them with a terrible glint in his eyes. Finally, he pointed to Damek. 

"He," he said clearly. "It is clear that he was brought into this for this sole purpose." Cyne's eyes narrowed; her stomach fluttered. She did not like the edge of malice in the insane voice. "He has the Gift." The priest's mad eyes glinted. "His blood will strengthen The Great Lady even more." A cry escaped Cyne's lips as she realized what the man was saying.

"No!" she shrieked, not knowing what she could do. As Kiluji eyed her with his eyebrows raised, Damek elbowed her. When their eyes met, he shook his head the slightest bit.

"Cyne," he said urgently. "Your magic-" Cyne stared at him in wide-eyed panic.

"My- what?! But the Gift- magic- not working-" He shook his head curtly to silence her as a priest neared.

"Don't. Don't say anything-" Then both girls were grabbed and pulled over to the side, while Damek stayed by Kiluji's side, in front of the Jaguar Goddess.

Shocked, mouth part open, Cyne watched helplessly, unable to do anything as the priests circled around the statue to block her view.

The chant began, one last, horrible time. She knew that this would be the final time.

"_Goddess!_" they roared in a way that made her entire being go numb. "_Accept us! Return to us, your children!_"

"Cyne," Merle said lowly, seeing the tears pouring down her dark-haired friend's face. "Cyne-"

"I- I can't help him," she whispered softly, feeling torn. Merle swore.

"Of course you can. Have you forgotten your-" She looked around to reassure herself no one was listening. "-_Gift_-"

"I cannot use it. No magic will work. Not even god magic works here," she said coldly.

"Then why did Damek say anything?" Merle hissed. "Can't you just _try_-"

"And what sort of spell would I use to stop all of them?" the girl asked bitterly. "Something too strong for me to handle. Something that would consume me? Something that might kill all of you?" Her voice rose with fear on the last word.

"At the very least Kypria would still be locked up," Merle muttered, a note of dryness in her voice. Cyne stared at her friend in horror.

"You- how can you ask me that?" she asked, eyes wide. "How can you ask me to try, even if you know I might kill you-"

"_Might,_" Merle hissed. "But you know sommat, Cyne? I damn well trust you. We three have survived this far, haven't we?"

"_Cleanse your Isles, destroy the unworthy-_" Cyne's heart nearly stopped with those lines. Destroy the unworthy.

The unworthy in their eyes were the members of Court, the silly, air-brained flirts and the clever, older men who did not mind her presence, as young as she was. The unworthy- the ones Kiluji sought to destroy- they meant Merle's parents, and Brand's.

And Dove.

How could she let them go through with this?

And how could she dare to use her Gift? After she had nearly lost her friends, was she about to lose them again?

"Cyne," Merle murmured impatiently, teeth gritted. "They'll kill us anyway…."

But could _she _strike the blow? Could she live, knowing that her attack had destroyed her friends-? She shook her head slowly.

"I can't," she said hoarsely. "I can't." Merle sat still for a very long moment, then she cursed.

"We're still getting out of here," she said grimly. "Move around so that your back is to me." Cyne scooted towards her friend, noting the blade in her hands. Her eyes widened.

"How in the _world _did you-" Merle rolled her hazel eyes irritably.

"I keep one with me. Always. Now, hold still, and- even after your bonds are cut- pretend they're still tied behind your back." Cyne snorted delicately.

"I know that much," she retorted lowly, relieved when the blade swiftly loosened the rope. Gently- and as casually as she could- she massaged her wrists, only to have the sharp knife shoved into her fingers. She winced as the blade cut her skin.

"Sorry," Merle whispered, blanching. Cyne smiled.

"S'alright. I figure that it is better than what they have planned-" As she nodded towards the priests, all of whom had their backs turned, the chanting grew louder, echoed through her ears and grinded her mind.

"_Death to all others! Death! Death! Kypria is our queen!_"

"Mithros," she whispered. "Where are those gods, anyway?"

* * *

Kyprioth pursed his lips, then shifted idly. Scowling, he glared into the floor while Aly glared hostilely at him. 

"I might suddenly disappear," he said abruptly. "If I do, it means the plan had worked."

"And if you stay here all night, sulking?" Aly asked acidly.

"Then we know that the plan failed."

* * *

Merle's gaze slide to Cyne's, and the brunette nodded once. Merle jerked her head towards the trees. 

That was all the communication either needed. With reckless abandon, both leapt to their feet and sprinted off into the woods as the priests' voices reached a crescendo, ears straining for any warning hint that they had been seen.

No one shouted out, nor pursued them. Still, it was with pounding hearts that they crept over to an rock from where they could see the entire scene without fear of being sighted. The cliff rose sharply a good ten feet away from the clearing, and this was where the two, shaking girls watched.

Damek knelt in the exact same place he had been all along. Kiluji prowled around the inner edge of the circle, his blade glinting in the firelight.

"What do you remember of Kypria?" Cyne asked breathlessly. Merle stared, unable to take her eyes off of the terror below.

"The tale goes that she imitated a human, and was sacrificed on an altar to herself." Cyne's lips twisted at the bitter irony of the situation. "After that, she needed to have sacrifices. It made her weaker, her… _reliance_… on human life. But- when human life was plentiful for her- in epidemics and wars- she was stronger than Kyprioth and all of his tricksters combined. Stronger than Mithros and the Goddess. The first sacrifice will mean a lot- perhaps whether or not she triumphs in a fight against her siblings-" Merle's hushed voice faded as Kiluji roared above the yells of the frantic crowd.

"Tonight, the Great God of the Isles will fall! Tonight, his followers shall scatter! And we will be there, to bring them to give power to the Glorious!"

"Can they stop jabbering on about killing us all?" Merle asked crossly. "It's starting to annoy me." Cyne's eyes watched the mercilessly crowd when a small breeze with the taste of forewarning danced across her face. She stiffened, and then drew in a heavy, long breath, savoring the flavor of the air, hoping- praying- that she was correct in her sudden suspicions…..

If she called the sea or errant water to her bidding, she feared the willful power escaping her. But if there was a power that was already brewing, already coming to _her_-

A clap of thunder sounded in the distance, and a smile flickered across her face for a moment.

Then her blue-green eyes fell upon the followers of the Jaguar Goddess.

"Thank you," she whispered to whichever deity she was now in debt to. Hope rose again in her mind. "Thank you."

* * *

AN: And chappie 23, the one I have been dropping dark hints about, is next! It's called Darkest Hour! And I'll let you all tease your minds as you struggle to think WHY... :D 

Goodnight. I'm sick and I want my bed.


	23. Chapter 23: Darkest Hour

_AN: I must say that I am thinking I am a very kind author right now... (grins evilly) _

_I am posting this Thrusday so that I can post again on Saturday... (I will not let myself post 2 days in a row. Sorry. ;D)_

_Thus there shall be a fair amount of instant gratification... lol..._

_Thanks to **Lioness Queen**, **Dream Ablaze**, **PrincessSolaria**, **wingsgirl1313**, **fairydust000**, **Kelusen**, **Ginastar**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **cahawk**, **sarralynsalmalin**, **Andromeda** (Thanks for reading! Feel free to review again, too! ;D) and my spectacular beta, **KyrieofAccender**. (Only one more chappie for you! Sniff!_

_And now, here you are-_

* * *

_Chapter Twenty-Three_

_Darkest Hour _

The loud shouting in Kyprish was the first thing that his ears took into account. Then, the soft whinny of a horse nearby-

A faint scowl twitched across Brand's face as a moan escaped his lips. His muscles were stiff, and he was bent in a most uncomfortable way, with something hard and stiff beneath him-

Keeping his eyes almost shut, he peered out from beneath his eyelids at his surroundings.

The sun nearly blinded him, close to the horizon as it was. He could, however, clearly make out the silhouette of the statue of the Jaguar Goddess, staring regally towards the coming night.

He was hanging off of a horse, like a sack of potatoes. How indignified. He made a face, then checked for guards. All attention was on someone near the statue-

"Tonight, the Great God of the Isles will fall! Tonight, his followers shall scatter-" Kiluji. Brand would knew that voice anywhere, that voice praising his goddess in rapturous tones. He had replayed it in his mind over the time since he had last seen the priest... The crowd shifted slightly, and his eyes widened as he saw the black-bearded priest standing in front of Damek. The young man was staring vacantly in front of him, face grim.

Brand's eyes flickered about the cliffs. The girls were nowhere to be seen. A knot in his stomach loosened. Good.

Muscles taunt, he shifted, wincing as his body seized, pained from however long he had been in that awkward position. Then, slowly, he slid off of his mount, soothing it with softly spoken words as he warily watched the head priest wave about a long, narrow-bladed dagger.

He did not like the look of the scene before him-

And that was when Kiliju's other hand captured his attention.

A golden chain hung from the man's fists, and on the chain was a black stone.

The boy took a deep, steadying breath, then looked from the Jaguar amulet to the silent Damek before the man, gazing at the ground. There was only one thing he could possibly do….

He only wished that there was a way to survive it.

_Goddess, _he prayed. _Great Mother, Dark Lady- _

"Show me the way. Give me strength," he whispered, lips dry. Then he glared into the torchlights. "Why did I have to be the one to put the family insanity to good use?" he muttered, flexing his arms grimly, eyeing the maniacal, numerous horde before him. He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning to mind a picture of Cyne, with her stern countenance, the hidden amusement in her eyes….

And Merle, with her fiery hair and glittering eyes-

Then a reckless grin split his features, and his honey eyes glinted as they snapped open.

"What a way to leave this world," he said lowly. Then, in one fluid movement, he swung up onto the horse and kicked the beast into a full gallop.

* * *

Merle swore as a horse rushed out of the trees and towards the men, who scattered; the chant stopped in favor of exclamations as the rider rushed through. She knew that dark head of the rider- 

Hazel eyes wide, lips parted, she looked on as Brand headed straight for Kiluji, who leapt out of the way. Leaping to the ground, he knelt by Damek as the swifter of the group began to converge.

A moment later, Damek was free, and Brand shoved him towards the mount. The older youth turned for a moment, as if to protest, and Merle could swear she heard her friend.

"_Go!_" Then, in a lightning speed motion that came from years of training, Brand closed the gap between Kiluji and himself and, whipping his leg around, knocked the other man's feet out from underneath him. The older man fell with a cry; Brand grabbed him and threw him into the men who had been coming to their leader's aid. If she had been closer, Merle could have seen the golden chain now dangling in the youth's fist.

Without another moment of hesitation, Damek urged the horse forwards and somehow managed to clear a path that Brand tore through on foot.

For a moment, Damek slowed the stallion, but Brand only shook his head and gestured towards the woods empathetically.

"Cyne…," Merle said, an edge of hysteria in her voice. "Help him-"

She felt as though she could not breathe. She was too panicked to think straight. She wanted to be calm, and calm she- or, rather, her body- was, despite her mind being aflutter. Her pulse was too slow, though it was as loud as thunder in her ears.

She felt weak, her muscles like warm butter.

And it was in that moment that she realized she could do nothing. She was helpless.

* * *

Nawat's eyes flickered to the blood red sunset as they flew on. He could hear the call of a fellow crow, several leagues ahead. A scout. 

She could see land. Immediately, he cawed out to the crows around him, ordering them to pick up their pace as they soared just above the sea.

Faster, and faster he went- his strong wings flapped powerfully as he dipped and made use of the air currents surrounding him and his flock.

He found himself racing off towards land, driven by an urgency he could not place.

* * *

Brand pumped his arms as hard as he could, his long legs yanking out their strides as he sprinted for the cliff. His heart pounded; he hated running, and now he was running towards his death, away from the destruction of the Isles. 

"Get him!" Kiluji screamed wrathfully. "Blast him! _Blast_ him!"

"We can't!" another voice yelled. "The Gift- it does not work-"

"Shut _up_! Grab him, imbeciles! Grab the boy!"

The gods certainly had a bad sense of humor-

All he had to do was reach the edge of the cliff. That was all-

And then the sea would take care of the rest. The amulet would belong to the Wavewalker, and she was sympathetic to Kyprioth, who was her master in these waters. She would return it, or keep it safe-

Kiluji would never find it-

Then, suddenly, one of the novice priests dived at him, and Brand leapt, changing his stride in midair-

But not fast enough. He tripped, slamming into the ground forcefully, his breath knocked from him.

_Damn, _was his only thought as hands grabbed at him, wrested the amulet away, and dragged him back to the statue and a furious madman.

* * *

Cyne's breath caught. Seeking support, she reached out to Merle, who instantly clasped her forearm. The redhead's nails dug into her skin, but Cyne barely noticed as they watched Brand being hauled up to Kiluji. 

"At sunset!" the priest roared. "At sunset, Kypria shall rise, and the Trickster shall fall into darkness! At the fall of the sun, all of his chosen shall be destroyed!"

Cyne's eyes slid over to Merle and she realized- as her friend turned to her- that the fierce girl was crying.

"My mother," she whispered softly. "And Da- and Brand- they- Kiluji has plans. He knows how to dispose of them. That attack, that day- it must have been a test, a test of the palace and the security- Kypria shall wreak vengeance, even upon the crows, who sided long ago with Kyprioth." Her face was white. "They will be gone, all of them- Maku, Avi-"

Cyne had always known the crow warriors, by face if not by name. But Merle….

Merle knew them all, their mates, their children, their lives- She was close to them and her da, in a way Cyne could appreciate, remembering her own relationship with _her _father. Merle, being so close to Nawat, had known them all as friends.

"The Isles will fall," she said hoarsely. "Kypria will not stand any luarin, not even part-bloods." Cyne felt the blood drain from her face. Even part-bloods? How many would be left, when the Isles was 'purged' of these so-called unworthy? "They will all die." A chill ran through Cyne as the extent of their mission was laid out before her.

Just find an amulet. That was what Kyprioth had said. Just find it, and give it back. That was it….

But in facing failure, she realized the importance of it.

Their duty was to the people of the Copper Isles, to every last child in the jungle villages.

_Her _duty was to them. She squared her shoulders.

And, whether she liked it or not, it was her duty to serve them- to save them- with all that she had… mind, body, and soul. And her Gift.

* * *

Brand grimaced, raising his face to look into the dying light of the west. He had failed. 

He stared at the figure of the beautiful young woman, carved in wood. She was hard, her face narrow, and indifferent.

Now was perhaps the Isles' darkest hour, he reflected, watching as, little by little, the sun sank behind the trees, behind the ocean.

But it could easily be the hour that the Isles plunged into a dark despair it would never recover from, as well….

He bit his lip as the huge, red orb fell from view, inch by inch. It was almost time….

For what, he dared not try to answer.

* * *

Aly paced in the study, eyes narrowed. Dove sat in a chair, gnawing on her lip nervously. Sibigat leaned against the wall, arms crossed and narrowed eyes darkly glaring into the floor. In the very same room, Kyprioth, the Great Trickster and God of the Isles stood, waiting. 

And- despite all of their efforts- all were ignorant of the dark figures swiftly swarming the walls and silencing the men on guard.

As the last of the palace men fell silently, a shadow appeared at the end of the wall, a sultry smile on her lips, a white glow illuminating her tall figure.

* * *

Nawat's crow eyes narrowed as his flock swept across the harbor, nearly touching the water- 

Avi was on his left, swerving side to side as he flew. It had always been an oddity of his, seeming almost dance like and laughable to most other crows-

The city was darkening, but it troubled Nawat little. They all knew precisely where Tajang resided-

There was a group of men standing on the docks, their dark figures very prominent where they stood, though only a sliver of the sun remained in the skies-

Nawat wondered what Merle was doing now. Tajang had seemed to be the sort to insist upon perfection, so the trio were probably eating a fancy, awkward dinner-

His sharp senses picked up an odd sound; the sound of twanging bows.

_That's odd- _

A squawk to his left made him turn; Avi had cried out. An arrow whizzed between the pair, nearly hitting the other crow-

The bird behind them dove and smacked into the water to avoid it. Another arrow shot past; this one hit a crow in the wing.

He stared in shock at the group on the pier. Everyone knew crows were sacred to Kyprioth; no one would _dare _shoot them!

Nawat called out to his brethren, warning them to fly high and spaced apart, as he remembered something Sibigat had mentioned before he had left-

_The crows would surely be counted as enemies, to Kypria. She would ensure you all died, along with the rest of us. _

Suddenly, he wondered just how much trouble his hatchling and her flock had been put in. An arrow flew towards him, but he lazily swept out of its way. He could see Maku and Domo, passing overhead-

Grimly, he screeched out a threatening cry, directing his soldiers to distract the bowmen. Then, as they began spiraling above the shooters, he flew, hard and fast, towards the Tajang House.

* * *

Lord Tajang accepted a crystal wine goblet from a bowing slave and gestured absently to send the man away. As the raka man bowed and exited, the lord strode to the edge of the balcony, staring absently out over the city as the final glow of light from the sun disappeared from view, below the horizon. He sighed, then looked to the east, and the darkening night. 

The sunset had been glorious, with such vibrant colors... The sort of sunset he had not witnessed it some time...

"I should send someone to find those three," he muttered, then took an idle sip from his goblet. He had expected Damek to bring them back by now.

They had probably gotten lost in the city, or stopped to admire the evening markets. Cyne had expressed an interest….

Then again, that had been before her friend had drowned. Tajang frowned; he was concerned, for both the poor girl and himself. He did not envy the messenger he had sent to Lady Alianne….

The poor woman. Losing her child… and over a foolhardy voyage, meant for their entertainment….

But now it was his duty to ensure the safety of the remaining two…. If anything happened to either of them, he supposed that it might be a good idea to set sail for Carthak before he was suspected of sympathizing with rebels. And he had finally managed to settle his friendly opinion of the monarchy, too….

Then again, his kind thoughts on the queen and her relatives were what had led to this little disaster.

He hoped that Cyne could find comfort in familiar surroundings; she had said that what he had said of Hauji Cove reminded her of Jiekai in Carthak….

But night in the streets- or in the jungle, for that matter- was dangerous. One could never be quite sure what- or _who_- was lurking. He yawned lazily, then took another small sip of his drink. He swirled it around in his mouth, savoring the heady, strong flavor, swallowing as he turned his head to watch the final remnant of light fade from the horizon.

Yes, he should send men out for the wayward youths.

As soon as he finished his wine.

* * *

_AN: Muhaha! Yes, I leave off there! And yes, if I get reviews, I shall be posting again very, VERY, soon... Like, Saturday._

_ So it may be in your best interest to review. ;D_

_The sun has set..._

_(singsong) And nobody 'cept me and my beta knows what has just happened only a couple miles away from Tajang on his nice, lovely balcony!_

_ And you will soon, too. _

_If you review. (wink wink)_

_Seriously. If I get ten reviews, I post again this weekend. If I get more than ten, I'll change my mind about posting 2 days in a row and post as soon as I have those eleven (or more...)_

_(A couple HOURS later): You guys are GREAT! Six already! On a school night! ;D_

_Really, I'm shocked mom and dad haven't booted me off yet..._

_And you guys don't have to stop at ten or eleven..._

_Chapter 24, "Fallen", might just be coming tomorrow night! _


	24. Chapter 24: Fallen

_Sorry that I don't have thank yous right now... mom and dad dragging us up to grandma and grandpa's..._

_So, I begged to be let on for a few secs in order to post for you guys. _

_So I hope you enjoy it... so if there's any typos- I don't have the time to read through it once more time- _

* * *

_Chapter Twenty Four_

_Fallen_

The sun had set over the Isles. From the northern Isle jungles to the southern Isle cliffs, the sun had disappeared. All over the collection of islands, mothers sent their small children to bed, fathers built up fires, lovers snuck out, and elders gathered around blazes to speak of the days of old.

All of them- raka, luarin, or part blood- were unaware of the turn of fate that lay in wait with the fall of the day, with the coming of the night.

But Cyne was keenly aware, as the sun fell behind the horizon, exactly what was happening. Kiluji stood on the pedestal that the Jaguar Goddess stood upon, arms stretched high.

"Tonight!" he shouted, and she readied herself. Closing her eyes, she shoved away all doubts and reservations, thrusting her consciousness into the dark skies, into the storm clouds that brewed overhead.

Then she lost herself in them; she faded and merged with the electrifying power of the air and the damp, condensed drops until she could no longer distinguish what was she and what was not.

Gently, she cajoled them towards her, carefully luring them back, trying to be playful. They followed eagerly enough, but slowly.

Calling up her magic, Cyne pulled them more firmly, asking softly.

_For my sake… for all of us…. _

"Cyne…," Merle muttered, teeth gritted together as she watched. "Can you hurry up a little…?" Frowning, Cyne thrust more of her power through the connection. This time, they came swifter. Smiling grimly, she summoned them to her, to the cliffs-

As the air between her and the storm charged with leashed power, bits of the sea stirred, coming with the clouds. Though she did not specifically bring the water, she did not deny it, either. She only wanted to be a conduit, something through which everything else could flow….

And, oddly enough, she found that she could gather more power this way than when she called up anything. Leagues of ocean churned, the lightning crackled ominously as tendrils of fog edged around the corners of the clearing-

Then, as she opened her eyes, a flicker of movement caught her eye, and Merle swore loud enough for several heads to turn towards them.

Kiluji stiffened, then, before Cyne could react, shoved the amulet into its place and leapt down from the statue as a huge light exploded from the wood, streaking all the way up to the sky-

Then the earth convulsed, and Cyne screamed, toppling from their vantage spot as the cliff shattered. She hit the ground heavily, only able to take the slightest impact away as she rolled, aware of the chunks of stone that fell around her, of the shouts and yells of the priests.

Then all went still.

Very slowly, she lifted her head. Her blue-green eyes widened.

Before her, the score-and-a-half priests knelt in their semicircle around the pedestal. Kiluji's eyes feasted on the sight before him; his hands rose in triumph, a stricken Brand by his side.

And there, on the pedestal-

Cyne gasped.

A huge jaguar rose from its seated position and stepped down to stretch lazily, its tendons flexing as it moved.

And there, standing there-

A dark-skinned woman stood, jaguar skin dress clinging to her scantily clad, muscular body. The gold circlet resting upon her head was complete; a black stone rested in its center, with the golden jaguar engraved on its smooth surface.

Then, slowly, she turned towards Cyne.

And, as the dark eyes locked with hers, a cold, pitiless smile played across the Jaguar Goddess's lips.

And it was then that Cyne finally realized that they had lost. They had lost everything.

* * *

Aly stiffened as sudden oaths fell from Kyprioth's lips as the god spun around, eyes glinting with the godly power that she scarcely felt from him. But it was times like this, as she fell to her knees and tried to shield herself from his raw power, that she truly recalled who he was. 

And she knew then what had happened.

_She is awake, _she thought, and a pit of fear rolled around in her stomach.

"What are you still dong here?" she demanded of the Trickster, voice wavering only slightly. He swore again, and his fury roared over her. She clenched her teeth, trying to control her quivering body.

_"What is the meaning of this?!" _he roared. _"Brother! Get to her! Now!" _

Aly chanced a look at Dove, who was staring at the god in a mixture of fear and absolute awe.

_Then again_, she reflected bitterly. _She does have that raka blood- _

Then another white light flickered in her vision, and a slender, lovely young woman in a revealing gown came into view.

Aly's eyebrows rose. Who could this possibly be-?

And why was there another god here?

"Sorry, my lord," she said in a soft, sultry voice as she looked at the furious Kyprioth from underneath her long eyelashes.

_"Jasa," _Kyprioth snarled. _"What in Chaos are you doing-?!" _

Jasa. The Prostitute Goddess, a lesser Trickster, she recalled swiftly, trying to keep pace with the events around her. Aly remembered her vaguely as a goddess who toyed with all the male gods, and had tremendous power when motivated, which she scarcely was….

"I decided to mix things up a little," she said in her low, husky voice as she inspected her nails. "You tricked your sister all those years ago, Kyprioth…. I swore loyalty to her, you know…." The god's face was now purple with rage.

_"I am not alone in this!" _he bellowed. _"My brother and sister-" _A harsh, guttural laugh escaped the beautiful goddess. She sneered at him.

"They are not raka gods. They hold no sway, no power. Not here. You are the only one who could _possibly _seal your sister up again-"

_"You cannot hold me forever! I am a Great God!" _She yawned, then batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.

"No," she told him. "But I can hold you long enough for Kypria to take your power…." Then her eyes swept over the mortals in the room; her eyes were ice blue, and colder than a mountain storm. Aly could not help a shudder. "And long enough for you to watch your queen fall." With that, she jerked her dark, silky-haired head towards the door, which burst open to reveal gold and black robed men wielding broadswords.

* * *

Lord Tajang downed the rest of his goblet, making a distasteful face as he swallowed. Suddenly, it seemed sickly sweet. It made him feel nauseous…. 

He casually strolled back inside, then called for his servant. There was no answer for several moments; the man had been all the way downstairs. He stretched, waiting for Clarthen to make his way up the flight of steps….

Finally, the short, not-so-trim man bustled into view.

"Did you want something, my lord?" he asked, not bothering to bow. He had known Hanimar Tajang for many years now….

"It is not urgent," Tajang said slowly. "But please send some men to search for Damek and our guests. I fear they may have gotten lost." The plump Clarthen nodded.

"Of course, my lord. Would you like me to bring up another cup of wine?" Tajang shook his head.

"No. No, I do not."

* * *

Nawat Crow grimly strode through the streets of Hauji. He had nearly been shot out of the sky by an archer who had been waiting on a rooftop. So, before he could be caught unawares, he had swept to the ground and stolen a set of clothes a size too large from a basket next to an open door. He would remember the address of the home and leave money later…. 

Right now, he was more occupied with the question of who could possibly be trying to kill the crows….

Obviously supporters of Kypria….

But to what ends? It almost seemed as though they wanted to eliminate them, or keep them from reaching Tajang-

He quickened his pace, cutting through an alley. Tajang House was so much easier to get to by air. If he had been in flight, he would have reached it by now-

A flicker of movement caught his eye; someone was following him, about fifty yards back along the deserted streets. He frowned.

This was not good.

If these followers were determined enough to make the effort to track him on the ground-

-they had to have some aim. And, frankly, Nawat did not think anything benign about their actions. Once again, his thoughts strayed to his daughter and her friends. What had Kyprioth dragged them all- including his own godly self- into this time?

* * *

The face was the most beautiful the girl had ever beheld, but it was also the coldest. The cruelest. The goddess's cheekbones were sharply defined, her cheeks smoothly stretched over her skull without a single crease or flaw to be found. Her full, heavy lips were playing with a dangerous smile, and her hands were artfully splayed to reflect her panther-like movements as she stepped off of the pedestal she had stood upon for countless years. 

But her eyes were the worst part. Dark- nearly black- the orbs reflected nothing but a glitter of vengefulness and centuries of aloof indifference. Kiluji was in ecstasy.

"My Goddess! Glory, the pictures are nothing next to your great self!" But the Goddess ignored him as the ranks of priests parted for her; her eyes were for Cyne only.

"And why are you here, my dear?" she asked in a mockingly soft, kind voice. The voice sent a wave of discomfort through Cyne. What could she possibly want?

"She is an unworthy, your Greatness. A servant of your despicable, low brother-" Sharply, the immortal's head whirled around so she could eye her head priest.

"I will decide such matters," she said icily, looking him over. "I would suppose I owe you a boon, for releasing me." Kiluji grinned widely, looking like a child with sweets.

"Thank you, O-"

"Silence," she ordered coldly, and the man fell silent, still grinning foolishly. "And bind that one," she said, her voice flicking out like a whip. Cyne followed her gaze; Merle stood staring at the goddess, petrified.

"No," escaped her before she could stop it. Eyebrows raised, Kypria turned back to her. Cyne stopped breathing as the hard stare locked with her eyes.

"No?" she echoed archly. Then she shrugged eloquently. "As you wish, my dear." The words were no comfort to Cyne, though no one made a move towards Merle after she spoke.

"What do you want?" Cyne asked after a long moment of quiet. A smile flickered across the goddess's face, and her features became almost friendly.

"Clever girl," she said lowly. Then her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the confused girl. "I felt a power in the air before I was freed," she said abruptly, breaking the quiet. "It was you." There was no infliction in her voice. It was not a question. Cyne swallowed heavily as the goddess cocked her head to peer at her like a curious object. "Are you human?" Cyne's eyes widened, and then the goddess snorted, as if at her own stupidity. "Never mind. Of course you are. That was a fool's question." Then she took a step closer. The jaguar that had been stretching on the ground bounded over to Cyne. She shrank back. "He will not hurt you." Kypria stared contemplatively at her. "He does not attack without my permission." Still, it was with bated breath that Cyne waited as the enormous cat circled her, tail curling around her side. The touch left her on edge, almost more than the stare the Jaguar Goddess leveled at her.

"Brand!" Merle cried. Cyne was distracted for a short moment; as she moved to look around the goddess, Kypria was suddenly before her, gripping her chin in an iron grip. Cyne flinched, but only succeeded in having her jaw bruised as the goddess held her.

"That was rude," she said sweetly, the falsely kind voice making her shiver. "I was talking to you. Pay attention."

"I can hardly _not_," Cyne muttered, and the goddess's eyes glinted with sudden comprehension.

"I know what you are," she suddenly said, and Cyne froze, forgetting her friends.

"What?" she asked unsteadily after a moment, trying to glance away from those piercing eyes.

"Look at me," the goddess ordered harshly, and Cyne found herself compelled to obey; her eyes slid back to meet the cold, dark ones. "I have seen your eyes before…. Yes," she murmured softly. "I can tell you, you know."

"What do you mean?" Cyne asked, distracted by the steady stare the Goddess gave her. It made her antsy, nervous-

"Haven't you always wondered why you can't summon fire?" the Jaguar Goddess asked softly, and Cyne was captured, caught between curiosity and fear.

"How do you know that?" she asked, barely speaking. She laughed softly, a musical sound in Cyne's ears. Suddenly, her voice was so much more pleasant….

"Because I've seen another like you." A gentle smile permeated her hard features. "A very long time ago. Have you ever wondered why your Gift is so odd? Why you can summon water and storms and move the seas, but cannot bring a single flame into being? Why you _used _to be able to start fires, and now can only extinguish them? Why you can control lightening, a product of flame and clouds, though not fire itself?

"Wouldn't you want to know?"

"Yes…." Cyne frowned; there was something nagging her at the edges of her memory, something she had to remember….

But all she could think of was Kypria and her Gift. Her strange Gift, an item of discussion and sideways glances-

Could she learn what was different about her? Could she then perhaps _fix _it, blend in with all the other Gifted-?

"I can give you fire again," Kypria whispered, and Cyne's eyes widened. It was as though the goddess knew her very thoughts- "All you need to do is one, small thing…." Kypria gazed into Cyne's eyes. The girl could barely think…. As the goddess's words penetrated, though, a seed of doubt entered Cyne's mind.

"Umm…." Why was a voice inside her warning against this? "I am not sure…."

"One, simple thing." Kypria's melodic voice sang in her ears. "And then I can tell you _everything _about you. And you will be able to master everything you could want-"

Everything she wanted. Images conflicted in her mind. What did she want?

A vague picture of her family entered her mind, then Merle and Brand….

And then Dove. Her face darkened. Her aunt was not family; she had lied, she had tricked Cyne-

"You can have vengeance," the soft voice whispered as Kypria's dark eyes took up all her mind, all her sight- "Against all those that have wronged you."

_So easy…. _

"And they will fall. Be gone, forever. There can be no one- no mortal, immortal, or god- who will be able to stop you." An odd excitement filled Cyne, and a glimmer of a hard smile played across her lips.

* * *

As she pulled out her heavy daggers with both hands, Aly swore, ducking underneath the arms of the unmoving, swearing Kyprioth to engage the first man before he could get his bearings. There was no time for niceties here; Dove was in danger. Again.

She ran him through and shoved him backwards to fall onto his comrades as she blocked an upper cut and then used her other blade to slash the chest of the next man. She was aware of Sibigat grabbing Dove and disappearing; there was a secret door that she had insisted be put it long ago. As soon as the queen was safe, Sibigat would alert the guard and order them to help her. Until then, she was on her own-

Someone punched her in the arm; as her dagger slipped, another blade streaked forwards to cut her side before she smacked it to the side. Grimacing, she hurtled a dagger at one fighter's head before wrenching another out of her belt sheath.

All she had to do was keep them at bay, in the door. Otherwise, if they broke in, she would be surrounded. And then she would surely die.

"At least if you hold me, you cannot touch her," he snarled, glaring daggers at Jasa. She grinned, then crossed her arms as she lazily leaned on him as if he was the side of a building.

"Hmm… not me, darling…."

* * *

Senses alert, Nawat whipped around and ducked into a defensive crouch just in time to see a blade headed for his head. With his usual dexterity, he plucked it out of the air and whirled around warily, trying to see his attacker. Even his follower had disappeared…. 

Did that mean that they were needed elsewhere? Or were they trying to make him cocky, trying to catch him off guard?

He gritted his teeth, then made a split-second decision.

Throwing caution to the winds, he sharply turned down an alley to the main markets and, as he reached the crowds, sprinted straight for Tajang House.

* * *

Cyne's grin mirrored the dangerous one on the Jaguar Goddess's. Stilled by a force she could not understand, Merle watched as Kypria whispered something to Cyne, even as Kiluji dragged Brand to the goddess's side and stuck his finger with the dagger. 

When the redhead started forwards, she was grabbed by the forearms, and a blade was pressed to her throat. She could not do anything but watch as the head priest squeezed Brand's finger and thick, red drops of blood fell into Kypria's open hand. How could Cyne not see-

But when Merle caught sight of Cyne's eyes, fear silenced her. They were flat, emotionless-

Like Kypria's. Merle's eyes widened as she recalled an old lesson-

_Mages can force their own wants, their own being into another… as long as they have a power source and contact with their chosen vessel- _

If a mage could do it, why not a god?

Kypria was trying to trick Cyne into doing something…. What her aim was, Merle had no idea, but she knew that the goddess was succeeding….

And, suddenly, as she watched Kiluji slash Brand's hand again, she knew.

_Kypria needs blood to strength her…. If the giver is Gifted, the more power she receives-_

She wanted Cyne's power. Merle felt faint as she watched Brand biting his lip in agony.

"Brand!" she screamed. "Don't let Cyne fall under Kypria's spell! Don't-" Then a heavy hand covered her lips. She choked on her words, and then the hand pinched her nose, too. She fought to breathe.

"Hush now, lil' sweet 'un," a hard voice cooed, and anger flared through her. "We can have some fun later…." Her hazel eyes narrowed, and her muscles clenched.

That was it. She had had enough.

Secret or not, she was not going to take this. It was time.

* * *

Tajang's idle thoughts were interrupted by a heavy pounding on his door. Before he could turn, the door burst open, Clarthen and another man burst in. The lord frowned. 

"Clarthen, what-"

"Nawat Crow, my lord," the pudgy man wheezed, gasping for breath. "Crows under siege in the harbor. Mysterious archers." The raka man spun around, looking about wildly.

"Where are Merle and Cyne and Brand?" he asked harshly, peering about as if he expected them to be in there, waiting.

"The girl Merle is dead," Tajang said lowly. "I don't know what happened, exactly-" He faded off as the man stilled, a dazed expression on his face, his eyes blank.

"What?" he asked softly. Tajang frowned, puzzled.

"She was on deck with her friends. On the ship. Cyne fell into the water, Merle dived in after her. Cyne came up…. Merle did no-" He stopped as a sudden thought struck him.

Crow. Nawat Crow, Clarthen had said. The girl was Lady Alianne's daughter. Alianne's unusual, rarely-used surname was Crow-

He swore inwardly, then turned to Clarthen.

"Get men out to the harbor," he ordered harshly. "I want all the archers dead or in chains. I am in charge of this city… and protect it I will." Still out of breath, the manservant dashed back downstairs, bellowing out orders.

Stillness pervaded the room as Tajang watched the man before him. The blank look had not left him.

"Merle… dead?" he asked, as if he was considering a fact, voice faintly confused. Lord Tajang bowed his head.

"I am sorry," he said quietly. Then, suddenly, Nawat whipped around.

"Where are Cyne and Brand?" he asked sharply, eyes suddenly hard again.

"Um…." Flustered by the change, Tajang struggled to find words. "Harbor, they left the harbor with Damek- they left for the shrine, the old shrine on the cliffs-"

Clarthen burst in again, gasping. This time, the tall youth by his side passed him with long strides.

"Damek!" Tajang exclaimed, relieved. "Where are-"

"Captured, by priests of the Jaguar Goddess," Damek gasped. "I escaped- rode to get help- they are going to free her! They-" Confused, Tajang looked to the grim-faced Nawat.

"Do you know what he's-"

"Yes. Send men _now_." The curt tone silenced the older man instantly. Nawat turned to Damek. "This shrine? It is along the cliffs-" Damek looked at Tajang, bewildered. "Along the cliffs?"

"Yes," the boy said softly, then leapt, eyes wide, as the man before him suddenly disappeared and a crow shot out of the rooms through the open door to the balcony. Both youth and nobleman ran out to stare, aghast, at the crow speeding towards the jungles on the outskirts of the city, cawing loudly as he did.

A cloud of black wings rose from the trees and the buildings, joining the already small black speck in the air. Damek watched for a moment longer, then turned his back on the sight and headed towards the door.

"I'm going back to the shrine," he declared, then dashed off to relay the next orders to the awaiting men Clarthen had called to muster in the courtyard.

* * *

Brand heard Merle, though he could not see her. He felt sick, especially after Cyne cast a blank glance at him and turned back to Kypria, uncaring. 

"Cyne!" he shouted, though he was right next to her. "Cyne! It's Brand! Wake up! Don't listen to her!"

"Shut this _boy _up," Kypria hissed, shooting him a malevolent glare.

_"Kypria!" _The goddess swore as a blinding light exploded in front of them. The voice was deep and female, but harsh on Brand's ears; he could hear the roar of winter storms and the howls of hounds on the hunt in the voice.

"Lesser Tricksters!" the Jaguar Goddess called. "Remember your loyalties! Keep her _out_!" A feeble ring of color surrounded the bright, white light, but seemed to stop it from progressing towards them all the same.

"Goddess," Brand whispered, tears pouring down his face as Cyne glared at him, face identical to Kypria's. "Save her."

_"I cannot," _the voice whispered in his ear. _"This is _her _battle. She must prove herself worthy of the powers invested in her." _Brand frowned; what was the Goddess talking about-?

"Cyne!" he yelled, throat raw. "_Cyne! _Come back! It's me, Brand! Remember me? And Merle!" He continued shouting, even as Kiluji's dagger cut his arms, his hands-

He felt faint, sick, tainted-

But he kept yelling.

* * *

There was nothing between Cyne and the goddess as the immortal whispered, her dark brown eyes boring into her…. Slowly, Cyne felt herself falling away, and her senses dulled…. 

Her eyes lost their sparkle, becoming nothing more but tunnels for a powerful being to take to her mind.

And as the Jaguar Goddess reached out, their minds melded, and Cyne knew no more than the thoughts of the goddess as her divinity overwhelmed all traces of mortality….

* * *

Aly was suddenly thrown back. With a yell, she hit the table behind her and hear her back creak as her head slammed into the wood. Dizzy, she watched as the men poured in and around her, swords pointed at her warily. 

"Don't bother," a cold voice instructed. A man walked in and grinned. "She has no Gift." Groaning, Aly did not bother trying to get up.

The mage was right.

She was finished.

* * *

_And yes, cahawk, sucking up does- occasionally- help. ;D  
_


	25. Chapter 25: Power

_AN: (singsong) I'm back! And thanking all of you lovely, wonderful people who reviewed for chapter 23 (**Kelusen**, **Kathy**, **fairydust000**, **wingsgirl1313, kellerr**, **Lioness Queen**,** cahawk**,** PrincessSolaria**,** Ginastar**,** seven3eight**,** sarralynsalmalin**, and** Dream Ablaze**) and chapter 24 (**Lady Muck**, **Time and Fate**,** Eternityfalls**, and- all over again, lol!- **Lioness Queen**,** Kathy**,** PrincessSolaria**,** sarralynsalmalin**, **cahawk** **,wingsgirl1313**, **Dream Ablaze**, **fairydust000**, **Ginastar**, and **Kelusen**) And double- triple, in fact- thanks to my beta, who is off the hook for a little while... as soon as she sends back that last chappie. ;D_

_Sorry if I haven't replied to your review; I have been very busy, and have scant computer time. (In fact, Mom's telling me to end now...)_

_But thank you for reviewing, and I shall try to get back to you, though it might take a week... (this weekend is so pathetic, it shouldn't even COUNT as a friggin' weekend, I'm so busy... 'Cept maybe I deserve it, 'cause I've made plans and am attempting to have a life of some sort, for once... But, then again, I think we all deserve Friday movie nights, especially when Lord of the Rings is involved... :D)_

_Okay, rambles are over. Here you are. This is a very long chappie, and we actually have that lovely thing called the climax in this one. Wait, no, crap, I lied. Climax is in NEXT chapter. _

_So. Hope this keeps you all happy. Now I REALLY gotta go-  
_

* * *

_Chapter 25_

_Power_

A young, dark-haired girl with flat green-blue eyes stood before a lovely woman glowing with white light as the tall goddess murmured.

Satisfied, the Panther of the Night, Kypria, the Jaguar Goddess, fell silent, her great cat encircling her legs. She turned to the boy on his knees by her side. His face was pale as he watched his blood drip into the goddess's hand. She smirked, her beautiful lips emotionless.

"It is a great honor," she said softly. "To strength me. I should thank you." The youth only glared at her, unable to summon the will to retort. Then his eyes fell back onto the girl as Kypria unsheathed a knife at her side and pressed it into the mortal's hands. "Just one drop," she hissed. "And your magic will be mine…." The young man's eyes widened.

"Goddess," he whispered, his face paling even more. "Cyne!" he screamed. "Cyne!"

But Brand Sibigat could do no more than shout as he watched Cyne lift the blade and hold out her arm, horror on his face.

* * *

Merle struggled violently and managed to jab her assailant in the stomach. As he gasped, she whipped around, punching him squarely in the jaw. Then, she dropped to the ground. 

The priests who had converged as she fought back knocked into each other in their haste to apprehend her. A moment later, they were untangled and looking about.

But the redhead had disappeared.

A hundred feet away, Merle watched the befuddled priests as they looked around, a wry smile on her lips.

* * *

"_CYNE!_" 

She stared down at the young fool before her pitilessly as tears formed in his eyes. He looked down, grimacing, refusing to share his pain.

A soft laugh escaped her.

He was stubborn, at least… just like her brother.

"Cyne!" he managed, throat raw, voice weak. Like him and the rest of the traitorous mortals who had forgotten her…. "It's Brand…." Then he looked up, locking his honey-colored, pained eyes with hers. "Have you forgotten…?" There was a note of forlorn despair that made her freeze. He was familiar… and his voice had invoked something that had felt like-

She glanced down, to see his blood trickling into an outstretched palm that was both hers and not, and a wave of fear and nausea rushed through her for a scant moment.

"Vengeance," she snarled, with only a note of disbelief and uncertainty, her voice harsh as it merged with another's, making it unfamiliar and frightening….

"_Cyne Hetnim_," a loud, firm voice called in a powerful command, but she only laughed.

The Goddess. Her dear _sister_…. Where had _she _been all these years? Scheming to steal from Kyprioth what was rightfully hers? _There _was irony….

But the lesser Tricksters- those who had proven themselves loyal to her over the brother who would hold her- would stop the other goddess.

As for _the _Trickster…. A sneer crossed her face. He was a fool, letting himself be alone with Jasa long enough for the clever goddess to wave a binding spell over him. Surely he had not been such a fool as to underestimate her…. No, he had assumed that the Temptress would not dare….

He never even bothered to wonder why she showed such an interest in him….

Then again, he _was _vain. She supposed she had nearly forgotten it….

And their _other _brother, the so-called Sun Lord, seemed absent for the moment. And _he _could be held at bay by her followers here, as well…. He had little power here, and now, at night….

Not so much as she, the Panther of the Night.

"The girl is mine,' she said, faint chuckles escaping her lips as she felt her sister's defenselessness as she sought to save the pitifully weak mortals. "All I need is some of her blood, and…." She shook her head. "Really, my dear sister. It was not clever of you to invest such powers in a mortal…."

"Who else could I give it to?" the other voice replied, a hint of a plea hidden in it. "Kypria, I have come to ask for peace, what neither of our brothers has even considered…." She snorted.

"Have you, _sister_?" she spat, cocking an eyebrow. Part of her was confused, lost like a child, surrounded by her elders and had little idea what they were saying, only that it was about her, and that it had developed into something nasty….. "Well, certainly you felt you had to come. Neither of our brothers _ever _considered trickery, when it came to stealing the Isles for the first time! Not even the thief god!

"Oh, but you did," she continued in a soft, lethal voice. "You did."

"You harmed the innocent. I could not stand by and watch." The Goddess sounded weary, as if all the pain in her had weighed down on her for all of those years and finally broken her. "Please, Kypria." Her voice was but a bare whisper, all of her splendor gone. "Let her go."

_Let who go…? _A part of her broken away from the furious, awakened goddess, the regal immortal who had lived for eons. A part of her was only a mere, lost girl.

She was aware of two skins that her being encompassed. One, the lovely goddess….

The other, a mortal. A simple mortal-

Suddenly, she wanted the mortal body. She wanted something she could not define, could not put a name to-

"Revenge," the cold, beautiful voice snarled, but she was no longer part of that sound. She recoiled from it, the terrifying sound that she had been merged with.

No, she was something- someone- different. Another being entirely, one that now simply waited, puzzled, as the great and terrible voice spoke again.

"From those here to Queen Dovasary-" She frowned as a surged of alarm- of protectiveness- rushed over her. She struggled, grappled with her mind and, finally, one question was wrested from its bewildered depths.

Why- why did she wish her _aunt _harm?

As she slowly opened her mortal, blue-green eyes, she saw the blade in her very own hand, so close to her skin, nearly grazing it-

And a voice crooning in her ear, a palm underneath her arm, ready to catch- _something_-

"Just _one _small favor. And then vengeance shall be yours-"

Like a thunderbolt, the Jaguar Goddess's intent hit her, and she dropped the blade with a gasp as her memory flooded back.

The vague faces of her brother and sister flashed to mind- her mother, her father- Ysul- Brand and Merle, Lady Alianne- her instructors these past three years-

And Dove.

Her aunt. Her surrogate mother. A woman who had understood her in a way that Sarai Hetnim never had…. She loved her aunt.

And Kypria wanted to kill her, kill her and all that she and others had fought and died for-

She wanted to tear it all down and wreak mindless havoc upon this land- Upon _her _land. The Copper Isles.

Alarm rushed through her veins. Cyne stiffened, stomach clenching and unclenching.

In her mind, in that moment, it mattered little that Kypria was a goddess, and she was a mere mortal.

All she knew was that the Jaguar Goddess could not be allowed to win.

Slowly, she looked up at Kypria.

The goddess had murder in her flat eyes, a spark of experienced deadliness in them.

Thunder boomed over head, and- as Cyne's gaze flickered to the sky above- she saw the clouds were pure black. Lightening tore through the air over the sea, illuminating the ground in a harsh, absolute light that no sun could ever summon.

Cyne watched in horror as the Jaguar Goddess advanced, the cold fury in her eyes the only feature betraying her calm demeanor.

They sky lit up with the flashes if light, accenting the dark figure as she sidled forwards.

"If you will not help me," she spat. "You will die." Then, almost too fast for Cyne to register, her hand shot up, delicately splayed fingers arched towards her. There was a explosion, a roar of sound that made Cyne cringe and want to flee this nightmare, and she felt herself flying backwards.

It seemed that the power that had held Kypria- and all other magics, for that matter- had dissipated.

Now, it was she, Cyne Hetnim, against the strength of a goddess.

_Damn, _she thought bitterly. _Why do I have to have all the hard work?_

* * *

Weakly, Brand stirred, then groaned. He was dizzy, and he felt muddled…. But, as he scrambled to his feet, he realized he could walk. 

And then he realized he could run when several of the priests headed towards him. But he could not run fast. Hands grabbed him, and he managed to cut through his dizziness to deliver a sharp punch into one initiate's jaw. But his head spun from the fat motion, and he knew, as he smacked another man in the stomach and struck him in the back as he doubled over, that he could not hold on for long.

* * *

Aly stared, fear filling her at this sudden turn in fortune, as one man strode up to her, holding a thin dagger in one hand. He stroked her chin with the flat edge, a grim smirk on her face. Eyes narrowed, she spat contemptuously into his eyes, refusing to give him the gloating he wanted to take. 

The man leapt back with a yelp, then glared darkly as Kyprioth smiled, despite his anxiety. Then a slow smile crossed the man's face.

"I think that we ought to dispose of you slowly," he said in a nasal, nasty voice. He inclined his head towards one of the others. "Initiate… kill her." A younger man with golden brown eyes tensed as his superiors turned to him. "You will have earned your place with us. But, of course-" The leader's grin widened. "-you can make it as slow as you wish." The initiate's face- a light tan- now turned a subtle green. Aly saw it and sent a prayer up to the Goddess. Trembling, the boy made his way forwards, eyes locked on Aly. She smiled crookedly, then jerked her head.

"Won't be too hard, boy," she said lowly. "After all-" She tried to shrug, but failed. "I can't even move." The youth's eyes widened, and Aly knew she had struck a nerve. "Just be quick, will you?" She saw the dagger in his hands, and the alarm in his eyes, and sighed. "Hurry it up-" The words stopped in her throat as she watched the blade leave his hands. It slammed into the wall behind her, only an inch from her cheek. She closed her eyes as a man gave the shaking youth another knife; this one slammed into the wall by her side.

Any other person's nerves would have been wracked by the fifth knife., but Aly was only getting annoyed. She was prepared to die; in fact, she was almost bored. All the boy had to do was throw one between her eyes; she might pass into the Black God's realm without even realizing she had….

But she understood the fear that made the boy hesitate, made him stall. He did not want to kill her. An admirable quality, one that she could particularly appreciate in her position.

She scarcely cared if she died as she mulled over her idle thoughts; Sibigat would get Dove to safety. He had completed her own duty, while she covered their escape.

As blade after blade whizzed dangerously close to her, she closed her eyes and tried to think of Nawat and her daughter. She prayed that they would be safe….

* * *

Tajang rode at the head of a group of archers, face grim. 

Things were running amok in his city, and dangerous things, too. His people- raka and luarin alike- were in trouble.

This was one thing he would not stand, no matter who his gods were, the Trickster or Mithros and the Goddess. He had to stand with his rulers to protect the world he cherished, not be at odds simply because he had always been taught to hold the raka in disdain.

Loud yells alerted him to the fight going on several blocks away. As he and his riders spilled out onto the docks, he could see- two piers down- a group of men and diving crows. Almost the moment they came into view, a shrill crow call echoed across the waters, and the birds swept up and away into the air.

Tajang's eyes widened as he saw several cityfolk among the black and gold robed archers. One tall, raka youth stood out in particular; feet spread, he wielded a long pole, smacking several of the robed men into the water.

"Help them!" the lord ordered loudly, a small, prideful smile coming to his lips. He should have known the people of Hauji would not stand for such atrocities. They had protected their god's messengers at cost to their own lives.

As his men pulled their swords out and clashed with the priests, he hoped that Kyprioth would remember such people, and reward them well.

* * *

Eyes glittering with malice, the Jaguar Goddess wrenched her hand in the air, making an arcane symbol, lovely face twisted in ugly rage. 

"_Kypria!_" came a desperate cry, one that screamed to the sky, that sent all of still standing mortals to their knees as lightening crashed all around the goddess, sending dirt and rock flying, a cry that held all of pleading of the world. In the words, Cyne could hear the howling pain of all the hounds in this world, the roar of the wind and fire. "_NO!_ _I am _sorry_! Please! Don't!_"

A harsh, guttural laugh escaped the Goddess of the Night.

"Too bad you had not thought about this before," she sneered. "Afraid of my power now, are we, sister?"

"_You step too far! You destroy yourself!_" A chill ran through Cyne as a tall, black-haired woman flickered into sight, her features pale, as if a veil obscured her from clear sight. The Goddess reached a hand towards her sister in appeal. "_What happened to your vow?!_" she cried as another bolt of lightening hit Kypria, setting little fires all around her. "_You swore to halt Chaos! You swore!_" The pain in her stricken features were imminent, despite Cyne's inability to see well.

"And you swore to stay with me!" Kypria accused, one hand pointed at the Goddess.

"_Sister! I did break my vow! I was mistaken!_" Cyne watched, shocked, as the Goddess, the one who was held so highly everywhere, prayed to and praised, fell to her knees, green eyes glowing.

There was a long silence, in which the cold, dark eyes of the Jaguar Goddess locked with her sister's, her face as immoveable as before.

After a long moment, there was a sigh as forlorn and unfeeling as the wind as it rushes against hard rock, and the Goddess rose.

"So be it," she whispered in a voice that was weary and empty. "It had to happen." Her voice was flat and dull, after the power that Cyne had felt coursing through her very being. "She will destroy you, Kypria."

"Never." Then, without preamble, the Jaguar Goddess whipped around on Cyne. Her sharp eyes narrowed, and the jaguar by her side snarled. "Your strength be mine, your sight brought to me, I shall be bound to you as you to me," she murmured spitefully, and-fleetingly- Cyne realized that she was reciting an incantation.

_But what sort of magic can a god control only through incantations? _she wondered as the small flames that had surrounded Kypria grew into a dangerous blaze. She had thought that magic simple for them, easy to use. Only a thought was needed, and the magic was performed. No matter how difficult it was….

It had to be a very powerful working, indeed. Perhaps stronger than a dragon's arcane knowledge….

But what _was _stronger?

"_Kypria…,_" was the Goddess's last whisper. Then, from over Kypria's shoulder, Cyne finally saw _her _with perfect clarity. Her pale, china-like skin slid over her perfect cheekbones like milk, and her black hair curled around her face as if it were wet, though there was no rain…. Then, from her bright, startling green eyes, one tear fell.

And the skies opened.

Cyne sensed the rain a moment before it slammed into her, soaking her thoroughly almost before her mind recognized the touch of the water on her skin.

But something else within her had woken with the torrent, and her cold magic pulsed, nearly flooding her control.

"_And I will take what will be mine!_" she heard Kypria shriek, and the mortal girl felt the god magic rushing towards her.

Before she could think, she cried out and held her hands out, as if to protect her.

Her magic rushed to her fingertips, and all the rain around her drew close and formed a shield, laced with her glittering power. When the spell hit the water, both exploded, in a spray of water and dying magic.

Unsteadily, Cyne stared disbelievingly as Kypria's eyes widened, then narrowed again.

She had repelled a goddess. She had shielded herself from one of their Spells of Power….

And, with this sudden realization, she pulled herself together and, looking up to the skies, called down upon the clouds.

Lightening crackled, making her hair stand on end, and a bolt of fire rushed out of the clouds towards the goddess. Instantly, Kypria disappeared, flickering back into sight few hundred yards away.

"You think you can attack me, mortal?!" she screamed, her rage making the hairs on the back of the girl's neck stand. "Magic or no, you have the skill of a fledging!"

"_But even fledglings learn to fly,_" boomed a strong, male voice. Another rush of exhilarating strength rushed through Cyne. She instinctively knew the voice; Mithros, the Sun Lord. A hiss escaped the Jaguar Goddess.

"But not all," she snapped furiously. "Not all, brother."

A clap of thunder roared over them, and a flash of white light streamed from Kypria's hands. This time, though Cyne tried to call up the shield of water, it was weak, and the bolt streaked through it, slamming her into the ground.

Desperately, she shoved herself to her feet and dove off to the side as another flash headed towards her.

"_Goddess…,_" she prayed to the invisible, hovering presence. "_What-_"

"Hush," a soothing voice ordered, one that was softer than the hard, discomforting one of the Goddess. A wave of cool ran through Cyne as she tasted another presence around her; one that smelled powerfully of the sea and the rain. The wind picked up; droplets of water slapped her face, but she scarcely felt the sting. The voice reminded her of the dream she had had on the ship…. The woman with the greenish-blue skin and those foreboding eyes. "You cannot fight Kypria. This you know." Panic rose in Cyne.

"What can I do?" she asked numbly, barely able to see the goddess through the torrential rain. "I need to stop her, I cannot let her win-" She trailed off hopelessly as the Panther of the Night chanted, drawing symbols in the air-

"Then free those who can…." The whisper melted into the thunderous sound of the rain, then faded away, as if it had never been anything but a fancied sound from the noise of the storm.

_Free those who can- _

"Of course!" she whispered, and a smile of relief crept across her lips. Her attention slid away from Kypria; though she knew that the goddess was planning something that could be her end, she could not do anything but ignore it. Then she closed her eyes and listened to the pounding of the rain.

The water touched everything; it _knew _everything. Now she slipped her own senses out to mingle with the rain, pushing her consciousness further and further until she sensed a barrier. She pushed with her mind, and was repelled.

But there was a tang in her mind that the water inevitably recognized, though she could not have figured out what it was herself.

The magic of gods. Of Tricksters, no less-

The lesser Tricksters who had betrayed Kyprioth. The ones holding the Goddess and Mithros at bay….

Focusing on a very, very small part of the barrier, Cyne called up her magic and gathered it tightly. Then, biting her lip, she thrust forwards, jabbing it into the wall between her and her allies. To her shock, it cracked with little resistance. She pushed harder, and then shoved with all the strength she could muster.

"_You little _bitch" she heard Kypria cry out as the wall shattered. But, even as it fell, Cyne saw Kypria's death spell heading towards her. Falling to her knees, exhausted from her efforts, she could do nothing but watch-

And then two figures stood between her and the goddess.

"_Kypria,_" rumbled one of the figures, and Cyne realized it was Mithros, and his sister by his side.

"Brother, get out!" she shrieked. "You cannot imprison me; we shall be locked in internal battle if you challenge me! Only Kyprioth may hold me now; and there is little that remains of his spell!"

_Kyprioth. _Cyne frowned and glanced about.

Where was the Trickster?

* * *

"I am tired of this, Initiate." Aly opened her eyes tiredly to see the mage glaring at the youth. "Kill her. Now." The boy froze, his final dagger in his hand as he turned to the harsh leader. Inwardly, Aly was worried for him, despite her own good sense. 

If he hesitated now, he would be in a good deal of trouble.

"Now, Initiate. Before I decide to kill _you_."

There was a very long pause.

Then the young man flicked his hand; the blade shot towards its target, flying through the air with fast, lethal grace…

…sliding directly into the head of the mage who held Aly with his Gift. He died before the light of recognition could enter his eyes.

Instantly, the magics that had held her vanished.

There was another very long pause, in which the youth's eyes widened in shock.

Then Aly lunged forwards, grabbed the boy, and thrust him behind her as the priests headed towards them, rage in their eyes.

* * *

Merle was about to try to find Brand when she heard a distinctive snort from a horse only a few feet away. Freezing, she slowly slid her eyes in the direction of the path… 

And saw a group of soaked, lightly armored city guards, headed for the clearing. And, close to the head of the group-

She instantly dashed forwards, yelling.

"Damek! Damek!" She halted as several men turned on her with their brandished weapons, their horses neighing nervously.

Damek immediately rode to her side. She slammed into the horse's flank, gasping. She had to shout to be heard.

"Cyne and the Goddess- she's awake- Brand- I can't find him-"

A roar of noise that drowned out even the rain sent the horses shuffling frantically. Several reared, causing chaos in the ranks. A pale, white curtain of light rippled past them, headed away from the clearing.

"I think the Goddess is there," she said, stating the obvious as she looked over towards the clearing, eyes wide with alarm. "Not Kypria. The other one." Damek nodded grimly, water dripping from his hair. The leader of the group- probably one of the commanders of the city guard- shifted so that he could hear the girl better.

"We'll hit hard and fast, run them all over," he said aloud, strong jaw tightening. Damek shook his head instantly.

"No! Tell the men to look out for a girl and a boy, dark haired- probably held captive," he added grimly. "Hit them fast, but watch. Be ready to stop-" the captain nodded his assent, then kicked his horse into a trot as he prepared to address the twenty or so soldiers. "Ride with me, Merle?" She shook her head.

"I need to find Brand!" she yelled, then headed straight back into the woods, her jaw set determinedly.

* * *

"Give her to me! I need her to reach Kyprioth!" Cyne heard Kypria snarl as she deflected the Goddess's attack, more out of fury than a want to share information with them. The white flow of god magic spread away from them, like ripples in a pool of water. "She has the only strength that can-!" Cyne's jaw dropped as her mind put together what the Jaguar Goddess had said. Then she blanched as Mithros shot a bolt of golden fire at the Panther of the Night. The great cat by her side shrieked, and bounded out of the way. 

_She_ could reach Kyprioth. She could find out what was the matter-

But she needed someplace to work without distraction-

By now, Cyne was unconcerned with the priests rushing about. Even if they had recognized her through the miserable veil the rain had cast, they could not touch her, could not harm her. After all-

She had fought a goddess.

The thought frightened her, and she forced herself to put it aside.

_I will think about it some other time, _she told herself, then winced as more sparks flew from the battle of the three gods. She headed for the trees. _Some other, safer time- _

Then she yelped as her ankle twisted painfully, sending her to the ground in a splash of mud and water.

Unfortunately, a man had heard her cry. Before she could call up her magic, he yanked out a knife and, grinning, threw it towards her.

A black shape swept down from the sky, almost from nowhere. Cyne blanched; the rain was so thick, she could scarcely see a few feet above her-

Nawat Crow fell to the ground in a crouch, between her and the knife. She watched, mouth agape, as he jerked the blade out of the air contemptuously and flung it straight back at the attacker. Then, before the other man could fall to the ground, he whipped around to her, eyes dark.

They softened as they settled on her, but there was still a blackness in Nawat's mood, in his face as he scrutinized her. Then he reached out and pulled her to her feet, hands very gentle.

"Are you alright?" His voice was hoarse, as if he had been shouting. Cyne nodded.

"I- I need-" She winced as she tried to step on the injured ankle. "The trees," she managed, heart beating swiftly from her close brush with death. Again. "I need to see why Kyprioth isn't here-"

"The Trickster is not here?" Nawat frowned as he half-carried her to the edge of the woods. There was a rock, too close and seeable from the clearing for Cyne's taste, but Nawat had assured her with one look that he would deal with any troublemakers. "There. Do what you must…." Then, with those pained words, he turned to watch their surroundings. Cyne frowned; why was he so grim….?

Then she closed her eyes, and called for her Gift. Then she called for her greatest fear.

She called for the dread that had haunted her, even before she had thought Merle dead….

She called the sea.

It came easily, seductively luring and enticing, a power that her heightened senses witnessed with even sharper clarity now. Since the rain had started, she had felt more aware, and stronger than she had ever thought possible.

Now, she marveled at the difference. Before, she had thought her power overwhelming.

_Now, _she sensed every nook and cranny in the ocean, every creature, huge and tiny, every wave as it scratched against the sandy beaches….

She pulled herself forwards, through the ocean, towards Rajmuat, towards the palace-

And the water followed her, and her magic. It was drawn by her simply _being _there…. By the time she was at the edge of Rajmuat harbor, there was a downpour in the capitol. She slipped from the waves to the droplets of water easily, forming her own storm cloud as she sped towards the palace….

She could feel the god's presence now…. It was a strong, metallic taste, a tang that was more annoying than unfriendly, like the enemy tricksters-

Then alarm spread through her as she felt _another _tang, one more similar to those lesser tricksters who had kept the Goddess and Sun Lord at bay. It was holding Kyprioth's essence: his power, his mind….

Yes, she was certain, now-

Then a scene entered her head, and she gasped. It was Lady Alianne, struggling against about ten of the Jaguar Goddess's priests, protecting a stunned young man pressed up against the wall. Kyprioth and another goddess looked on, Kyprioth with alarm, the scantily-clad goddess with relish.

Her storm flung the study's windows open, and she roared in, sending her magic out towards the other goddess, throwing all of the attackers to the side.

She struck once, hard. The binding over Kyprioth shuddered. Pulling more power into her grasp, she flung it once more at the goddess, who suddenly gasped and collapsed, caught completely off-guard.

There was a roar and light and sound-

And then she felt Kyprioth disappear, rage spilling over, and felt her body tugging at her, pulling her back along to Malubesang, leaving a stunned Aly staring around the room in utter bewilderment just as Taybur Sibigat burst in with a handful of the palace guard behind him.

* * *

Merle lunged forwards, nearly slipping in the mud, as she distantly saw Brand struggling against several of the priests. Almost all of the others had been dealt with; there were several other skirmishes going on around them, but it seemed that the men assaulting Brand were to be the last to be attended to. Thinking of nothing but him, she shoved past others who tried to stop her, slamming them into the ground without ceremony. 

She had to get to Brand.

She sprinted, harder than she ever had, harder than even when she had chased Kiluji, harder than she had struggled against the ocean as she pushed Cyne to the surface. It was as though she had sprouted wings-

But she still chaffed at the time it took-

Then a pit of fear formed in her stomach, and her mind whirled in panic.

She knew one of the priests who stood across from Brand….

It was Kiluji.

* * *

_AN: C'mon, that isn't too bad a cliffie... _


	26. Chapter 26: The Jaguar Amulet

_AN: Alrighty. Here, finally, is your climax and final action chappie. There shall be 27 chapters in all, btw. _

_Thank you to all who reviewed, even though I'm not mentioning you (again). Sorry. I have a very very short time limit... and I thought that you all would like the chappie now than perhaps tomorrow or later with your names. I promise, though, that my last postings shall be lavishing you all with praise. _

* * *

_Chapter Twenty Six_

_The Jaguar Amulet_

Brand sucked in heavy breaths of air as he watched the priest across from him warily.

This was not good. Kiluji obviously knew that the odds were in his favor, from the way he confidentially flourished his sword. His teeth flashed.

"You have been an annoyance for some time," he said slowly, eyeing the ragged boy before him. "Ever since I took the amulet from that fat fool…. It will be a pleasure to kill you."

_When I'm wet and cold and half bleeding to death, _Brand thought wryly. _Of course it's quite a pleasure…. _

Startled, he stumbled and nearly fell when the priest sprung towards him, his glittering eyes like pits of manaical danger. Brand managed to avoid the blade by twisting to the side, but the motion made his face spin.

Teeth gritted, he swore and grabbed Kiluji and tackled him, not caring about eloquence. Both fell to the ground heavily, Brand's fall slightly cushioned by the robe of the priest. Desperately, he reached for the sword, but the older man saw his intent and punched him in the face. Brand cried out as he fell his nose shatter, then rolled away and settled into a crouch as his opponent rose. Lightening crackled across the sky, and the blade lit up with a fiery light. Blinded, Brand threw up his arms and was nearly skewered by the very same sword as Kiluji lunged in to press his advantage.

In that moment, he looked up to see Merle sprinting towards them, still too far off to do anything to help.

If he could hold on for another minute-

Then his eyes caught a glimmer of light as the blade swept in, and he felt his shoulder slice open as pain wracked through him.

Maybe he could not hold on-

* * *

Merle stared in shock as Brand fell. 

_No. _It could not be happening, it could not-

She wrenched her final knife out of her arm sheath, and forced herself to go faster, her bones grinding as her feet slammed into the ground-

But the grass was wet and slippery-

She saw the ground coming up to meet her face before she realized she had fallen-

Hands out as she hit the mud, she felt the dagger fly out of her hand, spinning on the wet grass-

She looked up desperately as she watched it, spinning-

_Goddess… please-_

* * *

_Too bad Merle will be here in seconds, _Brand thought grimly as he fell to his knees. He did not want her to witness this- Gods, he would be leaving both of his friends- Who would tease them or bother them all the time? Damek was a fine mate, but not that bold- 

Kiluji forced him onto his back, then lifted his sword dramatically over his head. A croaking laughter tore from his throat as he gloated.

Then something heavy hit Brand in the head. He scowled, trying to clear the ringing from his head. What was it now-?

"Brand!" he heard, and reached up slowly towards his head-

-and his cold fingers touched the hard metal of a hilt.

Trembling, he watched as the sword fell-

And, in one last effort, snatched up the knife on the ground and thrust it into Kiluji's chest.

* * *

Cyne's eyes snapped open, and she sat up with a gasp. Nawat was instantly at her side, frowning. 

"I am fine," she said, looking up at the gods interlocked in their struggle for the Isles. Kypria's face was twisted with fury, but she seemed well able to keep her siblings away…. "But I know someone who-"

She threw her arms up into her face as the ground between Mithros and the Goddess and Kypria exploded in a roar of sound that seemed to destroy her, assault her only by its call.

"_Kypria!_" This shout echoed through the sky, a shout of pure fury. She clapped her hands over her ears. "_The Isles are mine!_"

And then Cyne could see the Trickster, body glowing with white fire as he flicked a hand towards her. His white magic surrounded her, but Kypria blew it off without blinking.

"I am stronger than that, brother dearest," she said smugly. Kyprioth's jaw clenched, and the air pulsed warningly. This time, Cyne managed to cover her ears just as a line of colorful fire rushed towards Kypria, ripping up the ground between them. She responded with her own magic, a black that mingled with white flames. When they hit each other, a wave of dust and sparks flew, though neither fire gave any way.

There they stood, twin brother and sister, glaring at each other over their fires, each straining to overwhelm the other….

* * *

Merle forced herself to her feet, then dashed towards Brand and the remaining priests as the men stared in shock as Kiluji fell, his arm hanging off the edge of the cliff. They would not know what hit them- 

Nawat turned as a flash of fast-moving red caught his eye.

His jaw dropped, and he stared for a very long moment.

It was _Merle. _His daughter. His daughter was alive.

Then someone yelled behind him, and he whipped around to help a besieged city guardsman.

* * *

Brand's relief was very, very short lived. Before he could relax, the other priests cried out in outrage and dragged him to his feet. It was then that he saw how close he was to the cliff- 

If those priests were not careful, they would all topple into the ocean below-

A man cried out, and Brand's eyes flickered to his right, where Merle was pummeling one of the priests to the floor. As another priest dropped him to challenge her, she ducked his swing and spun around on one foot, slamming it forcefully into his stomach. As he tripped, he tumbled backwards and fell into space. His scream was lost in the pounding of the rain and the roar of the ocean. Brand stiffled a shudder.

There were three men left. Merle grabbed one man's arm and wrenched it, throwing him over her hip. There was a crack; she had broken his arm. But, before she could recover, one of the last two men shoved her backwards. She hit the ground in a splash of water and mud, then looked back loathingly.

"You're finished," she spat, and Brand heard the man holding him chuckle.

"Perhaps," was the icy answer. "But so is your friend-"

Brand's last glimpse of Merle was her widening eyes as the priest whipped around and thrust him towards the cliff.

Brand stumbled, trying to back away-

But his balance was off-

"Brand!" he heard Merle scream as he felt himself fall forwards, leaving the ground-

But the redheaded girl moved faster than any other mortal alive could have dreamt. Lunging forwards, she knocked both remaining men to the side, disregarding them as she dived forwards.

As she fell off of the cliff, she planted her foot on the very edge of the rocky ground, and shoved Brand forcefully. She saw him fly backwards, to the ground, safe-

Then she felt the air rush around her, and she smoothed her face, utter serenity and relief calming her as she dived towards the stormy, unforgiving waves….

* * *

Stunned, Brand stared as Merle fell from his sight. Then- disbelievingly- he crawled towards the edge to see her figure falling to the ocean. 

But, before he could cry out, her tall form changed. Shock written over his baffled face, Brand watched as Merle grew smaller, and smaller-

-until a crow was diving towards the waves instead of her. With easy grace, she pulled up short, just before she hit the water, and soared back up to eye-level with Brand. Sharply turning in the air, she beat her wings as she headed towards the speechless youth.

Brand reflected that his eyes were probably at _least _as large as saucers. Probably larger….

As he sat back heavily, he stared at his friend as she slowed her flight and- wings spread- landed gingerly on his head and pecked him once gently.

He marveled at the picture he must make; bloody, mud-splattered, with a large black bird on his head….

He shook his head slowly, and said the first words that came to mind as the rain slowly died away….

"I'm gonna kill you," he told his old friend grimly. "I swear, Merle…. Dead. The moment I can stand _and _see straight." Merle opened her beak and emitted a harsh, chattering laugh before pulling at his hair. "Ouch!"

* * *

Guided by some instinct she could not identify, Cyne rose and walked unsteadily towards the battle of the gods until she stood on the side, precisely centered between the Jaguar Goddess and her brother as they tried to force their fire towards the other. 

Kypria was slowly but surely losing ground to her brother.

"_How have you governed your Isles these last years, fool?!_" she cried over the crackle of the fire. "_I hear you lost it to the very one I lost it to…._" Kyprioth's eyes narrowed.

"But I won it back," he answered evenly. "And I never fell to Uuasoe's level. Chaos is the only place that shall welcome you after this, Kypria." She cackled shrilly, a sound that grated against Cyne's mind.

"_Oh? But you cannot kill me, brother!_" she exclaimed. "_You cannot destroy me- only magics above you can do that!_" For a very short moment, Cyne thought that the Trickster's eyes flickered to her. But then she instantly doubted the suspicion, for he turned to his sister.

"_This ends now, Kypria,_" he ordered, voice dark.

Then his magical flames flared up with impossible light, light that blinded Cyne and left spots dancing across her vision.

Kypria shrieked, and there was a fiery explosion that surrounded her-

But the Jaguar Goddess lost Cyne's interest, for the light caught a gleaming stone-

It landed by her feet, spinning on its edges before sinking into the mud.

Slowly, reverently, Cyne knelt, and gingerly picked up the piece of stone. The golden jaguar carved onto it shimmered as she stood, staring into its depths.

The Jaguar Amulet.

The very thing that had began all of this….

…. And she knew, in that moment, exactly what she had to do to end this forever. Furrowing her brow, she stared intently at the small rock.

Calling upon the sea, the storm, and the water of the Isles, she weaved her magic around the amulet. A ball of silver-blue light circled the jewel, and she cupped it in her hands gingerly as it grew….

"_No!_" Kypria shrieked, but the Trickster stepped between her and Cyne, eyes blazing.

"This time, we have the power to do what we could not before," he hissed. "Kypria, Panther of the Night… Jaguar Goddess…."

"_NO!_" Her scream ripped the heavens in half, echoed through the ground, and made it tremble in fear. Her jaguar flung itself towards Kyprioth, but he knocked it away easily. With cries of rage and despair, Kypria rapidly thrust her power over the Trickster, trying to overwhelm him, and reach the one he protected-

But Cyne continued weaving, pulling and summoning everything she could find until she could hold no more without it escaping. The ball of light grew so bright, she could scarcely look at it, let alone see the dark amulet within….

Then, in one swift motion, with the final vestiges of her strength, she slammed her hands together.

The force threw her back, sending her flying until she hit a tree, her head snapping back as she hit.

And she saw a blue glimmer whirl around a shocked, wide-eyed, dark goddess. She looked up at Cyne, with a look akin to reverence.

Then the place she stood was bathed in a light that shot up to the skies above, piercing the clouds above and the ground below as it shook.

And then, suddenly, the light was gone.

So was Kypria, Panther of the Night, the Jaguar Goddess.

* * *

Shaking, Cyne opened her hands. The amulet was gone, as well- 

And Kyprioth was before her, grinning widely.

"Excellent, my dear mortal," he said flippantly. "I am quite happy you caught on. It would have been difficult to elaborate how to destroy that wretched stone." Cyne glared at him darkly.

"Peace has been restored by you and your friends' efforts." Mithros's grim features materialized next to Kyprioth. "We gods owe you a boon for your courage."

"Thank you," murmured the voice of the Goddess as she came to stand by her brothers. Cyne frowned, then rubbed her head.

For some reason, the Goddess was not inspiring the same awe that her brothers commanded. Though Cyne feared the beautiful immortal, she felt only respect, not the overpowering strength that any god _should _radiate.

"Ah, yes." Kyprioth grinned, then clapped his hands together and rubbed them together, his face maliciously delighted. "Sister dear, it was foolish to reveal your true side to a mortal, even one as special as this one. She shall never see you as a god again…." He sighed dramatically, obviously enjoying the moment. The Goddess's green eyes narrowed.

"Huh?" Cyne managed.

"What Kyprioth means," the Sun Lord said coolly. "Is that we Gods have many faces. Our true feelings and natures are never revealed to the undivine, lest we lose our…"

"Respect?" Kyprioth filled in, still grinning broadly. "Mother Flame, what did you do before we came, sister? What could you have done?"

"I asked her for forgiveness," the Goddess said coldly, watching Cyne as the girl took in what was happening. Both of the other gods started, their expressions shocked. Then the lovely woman nodded deeply to Cyne. "But if I had to reveal my… emotions… to a mortal… I would not wish to have done so to another mortal."

Then both she and Mithros faded into the air, their eyes the last sight of them that Cyne caught before they were gone. She shivered once, suddenly aware of how cold and tired she was. Her entire body- now _so _fragile- shuddered as violently as the earth had moments before.

"Well done, my friend," Kyprioth said shortly. Cyne's blue-green eyes narrowed.

"I'm no friend of yours," she muttered. "Not anymore. Not that I _ever _was." The god sighed, then dismissed the comment with an airy hand.

"That's what they all say," he told her. "Bless you-" Suddenly, Cyne sneezed.

When she looked up, the Trickster was gone.

Gone. Everyone was gone; the Goddess, Mithros, Kypria, and the Trickster…. The priests had disappeared, too. Disappeared or dead by the sword. She could see Damek a ways off, sitting on a mount, surrounded by a group of men. She could see Brand sitting nearly on the very edge of the cliff, making an odd picture with a large bird on his head…..

She closed her eyes wearily, knowing she could not have gotten up, even if she had wished to.

At least she did not have to rise….

It was finished.

* * *

_AN: Yes, the action IS finished, finally. But the story isn't... Review, please? And I shall be a good person and attempt to catch up with my reviewer replies and stuff. I am a terrible person, I know... But I have about an hour to do my homework and all housework before the unhappy Mommy dearest comes home to wreak fear and havoic with her planned, two hour cleaning spree. _ _Eeeee... (quivers in fear)_


	27. Chapter 27: Homecoming

_AN: Original chapter title, I know. (grimaces) _

_Bear with me. My chappie title muse has ditched me._

_And THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED! This includes chappies 25 and 26! You guys are amazing! _

_**Time and Fate**, **Lioness Queen**, **wingsgirl1313**, **cahawk**, **Ginastar**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **sarralyn salmalin**, **Kathy**, **fairydust000**, **Heiress of Lohaust**,** Lady Muck**,** PrincessSolaria**, and__ **Dream Ablaze **all reviewed chappie 25 (tea and cookies for you! ;D) and **Lioness Queen**, **PrincessSolaria**, **Time and Fate**, **wingsgirl1313**, **Lady Muck**, **Dream Ablaze**, **Pie of Doomeh**, **Ginastar**, **cahawk**, **fairydust000**, and **Heiress of Lohaust**. And big star for my beta. You rock my socks. _

_  
And I shall be posting a new story soon enough. **YES**, I am going back to Cyne and Brand and Merle and peoples, but first I need to- ahem- lay some groundwork over in Tortall.  
_

* * *

_Chapter Twenty Seven_

_Homecoming_

"Next time we ask if you have anything else important you would like to share with us," Brand drawled, studying his fingers idly as he spoke. "Turning into a flippin' bird _is _sommat you want to mention." He winced as Merle smacked him in the arm. Cyne tried to hide a smile, but failed when she looked at Damek, who stared back at her with the same amused expression on his face.

"Maybe I didn't feel like letting you in yet," she retorted, then glanced at Cyne apologetically. The other girl only shrugged. "It never seemed like the right time…."

"Why would you _wait _for the right moment?" an all-too familiar voice scoffed. "Right moments can be very highly overrated, if you ask me…."

"No one did," Cyne muttered wryly as the four mortals turned towards Kyprioth, gleaming with his usual brilliance. The ship hands rushed all around them, not noticing the god in their presence. "Why are you here?" She frowned. "There isn't anything else you want us to do, is there?" Kyprioth stared at her indignantly.

"I dare say, the way you put it, one would think you don't trust me."

"We don't," Merle remarked quietly.

"I'm a god." The Trickster looked hurt. "You are supposed to trust me." Cyne sighed, then glanced out over the water.

"You had better make this quick," she warned. "We are about to face several angry guardians…." It was true; they were swiftly passing through Rajmuat harbor, and she could already see the crowd gathering on the docks.

"You need not worry," Kyprioth chuckled. "Not yet, anyway.

"But I swear to three of you that- within a year's time-" Cyne, Merle, and Brand all groaned in unison, but the god pretended not to hear. "-that you shall be hearing from me or one of my illustrious siblings."

"Don't feel pressed to fulfill that vow," Brand muttered, and the Trickster's eyebrow rose.

"Don't you tell me you didn't have any fun, my lad. After all, you _were _the one who wanted action in his life…." Cyne snorted, recalling that day- it seemed so long ago now- that Brand had lamented his lack of adventure.

"All the action I need is zealous young women fighting for my heart," he mumbled, and received another whack from Merle. He shot a half-hearted glare at her. "Haven't you abused me enough these past few days?"

"Anyway," the god continued hastily, stealing a glance at the nearing shoreline. "I bring thanks from the gods. The balance has been restored; Kypria has been cast down into Chaos." Hearing this, Cyne felt a slight pain of regret. The tears the Goddess had shed as she pleaded with her sister and the outraged disdain Kypria had treated her with were still fresh in her mind. "And I wanted to give you this, Merle, crow-girl." A white light glimmered in his fingertips, and a small piece of obsidian carved into a feather appeared. "A gift for my Chosen." Silently, the redhead held out her hand, and the god dropped it. She held it close up to her face as Kyprioth turned to Brand. "And for you… a keepsake."

Both Cyne and Brand looked in his other hand, and Cyne's eyes widened.

In the Trickster's palm was an unmistakable piece of black rock….

Though it was now flatten, and the golden engravings on it were skewed, she instantly recognized the Jaguar Amulet.

"I thought…," she began, but faded off when her friends gave her a questioning look. She had revealed her part in the downfall of Kypria to Brand and Merle, but Damek….

Damek was different. She had only just met him, though she felt as comfortable with him as her friends. But she felt strange, when she was around him, when his eyes were on hers….

She would have to think about him sometime, and figure out what her trouble with him was. But that was only one of many things she found that she needed time to mull over-

"I have not left you out, my dear girl," Kyprioth laughed, but his dark eyes were serious. "I do not have a gift from my great self… but a token from a… a-

"A token from a friend," he finally decided on, the corners of his mouth twitching mischievously. Cyne watched his hands, intrigued, as one final object came into being in his hands.

It was a shard of a curved stone that had a surface as smooth as the ocean water, one that seemed to burn with a subtle fire inside the faceted edges.

Involuntarily, her mouth fell open as she stared at the green-blue glow, an odd color that seemed to reflect the very shade of her eyes….

"The finest sea glass in this world," Kyprioth said quietly, watching the girl. "And I can tell you that the one who chose this would know…."

"It does not look like sea glass, exactly," Cyne whispered as she reached for it. "It- it has other colors inside it. They- they glimmer." Damek studied it for a long moment, a faint frown on his face.

"I do not see anything," he said lowly, but Cyne watched as silver and violet light shot through it at different intervals as the rays of sunlight hit the glass.

"And it is not just a pretty piece of jewelry," the god finished abruptly, taking Cyne's hand and pushing the glass into it before closing her fist tightly. "Take good care, Cyne Hetnim." When she looked up, he was staring intently into her eyes. "You shall be needed, before the end."

Then he was gone. Blinking rapidly, Cyne glanced from side to side, surveying the ship. Then she sighed and made a face.

"I meant to ask him what happened, when I fought with Kypria," she told her friends quietly. "That sort of thing does not happen. By all rights, I should have been smashed to bits. Like some annoying insect." She scowled. "Instead, she got thrown into Chaos and I'm here, about to be scolded by my aunt and locked up for the rest of my life."

"You get off easy," Merle said gloomily. "Knowing my ma, I'll be stuck for all of eternity." Brand snorted.

"You two girls worry too much," he said matter-of-factly. "We're heroes!" He grinned, remembering the honors Tajang had lavished upon them. They had been treated to the greatest the city had to offer for the few days that they remained in Malubesang. Nawat had flown back to his wife as soon as he had rested, but promised to meet them at the harbor mouth, which was not much comfort to them now.

"But that doesn't impress them, because they've all been heroes before," Merle reminded him darkly. Brand paused to digest this comment, obviously dismayed.

"Let's go back and face another rowdy goddess," he muttered. "I'd rather be sacrificed by that crazy old bat, Kiluji, than withstand your ma's wrath, hatchling."

* * *

Cyne departed with a quiet word to gather the rest of her belongings; the others had already brought their bags up. She was surprised, when she descended below deck, to hear Damek following her down the ladder. 

She turned as his foot landed on the floor, and he stopped so as not to run into her, one leg still resting on the second ladder rung, his arm holding onto the step nonchalantly.

"Did you want something?" Cyne asked softly. He shrugged, still watching her.

"Do you need help?"

"I only have a couple of small traveling bags," she reminded him, and he smiled.

"I had forgotten." There was a long, awkward pause between them.

"Well, then-" both of them started to say at the small moment, then laughed. But as Cyne looked into his eyes, she saw an odd caution that bothered her.

"What was it like?" Damek asked suddenly. She frowned, caught off-guard.

"Hmm?" She cocked her head, looking at his bewildered face. He gestured futilely.

"Um… you know-" He shrugged. "Fighting Kypria. Destroying a goddess."

"I didn't _destroy _her, exactly…," she protested, but trailed off, unable to defend herself. He pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You're right," he said softly. "She destroyed herself." Cyne started; his words were an odd echo. "What is it?" Cyne bit her lip, sadness in her eyes.

"The Goddess said the same," she whispered. "After Kypria refused to come back to her- to them. When she refused to make peace.

"But she also said that I would defeat Kypria. She _knew_." A pained aggregvation slipped into her voice as she raised her eyes pleadingly to her companion. "How- what does she know?" she asked, revealing the true turmoil underneath her thoughts. "And Kypria- she said something about how it was foolish to invest such power in a mortal, and the Goddess said she had no choice…." She groaned, then leaned forwards to bang her head against his shoulder before she knew what she was doing.

She had often done the same with Merle and Brand, after a particularly hard session of training. But the moment she stepped up to Damek, she was suddenly aware of how _tall_ he was, how large-

She trembled, expecting him to shift. Once he did, she would move away and apologize-

But he was standing very, very still. After a long moment, she stopped wondering if she should move, and just closed her eyes and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

"I just wish I understood," she said, voice hopeless. "I just- just want to _know _what this is…. What I can do."

Then, all of her senses even more acutely aware than when she had stood in the middle of a rainstorm sent by the divine, she felt Damek wrap his arms around her in a loose, feeble embrace. She sighed, relaxing into him as he pulled her towards him. Unable to do anything else with her hands, she wrapped them around his neck.

"You will figure it out," Damek said, voice sounding strange. Puzzled, Cyne turned her head up to look at him.

Her heart nearly stopped beating, as her mind realized how _close _he suddenly was. And that thought was the only one that she could register as he bent over and kissed her gently on the forehead.

Then, his dark eyes even darker than usual, he tugged free of her and climbed straight back up the ladder.

All Cyne could do for a very long moment was stare.

Then she remembered she had to retrieve her belongings, and turned towards her cabin.

* * *

Cyne watched as her aunt grew closer and closer, as the ship neared the docks, but she could not read the stern look on her face. 

Her stomach flipped nervously. What if Dove was angry-?

Well, of course she was-

And she needed to talk to her about this _heir _thing-

She was going to be in trouble.

But, worse than that, Dove would be disappointed in her. She closed her eyes, trying to push back the sudden wave of emotion that had come over her.

Dove would be disappointed, would think her unworthy of being her niece, shocked at herself, wondering why she had ever thought that Cyne could be a good queen….

It was with these stormy thoughts that Cyne glared ahead of her as the ship docked. She could not soften her features; she feared that she would break into tears if she did.

"Gods," she whispered, her voice a half laugh, half sob. She did not dare say anything else; she would not be able to hold back the torrent of tears if she did. But her thoughts continued furiously.

_I am going to lose my calm, I am going to cry, and then what, in front of the court and everyone-? _

Queen Dovasary strode onto the ship, Aly following, her eyes ever moving. But Dove's eyes were fixed on her niece-

And it was then that Cyne knew she had to look at her aunt-

So, fearing what she would see, she turned her face as Dove neared. She was shocked when she saw tears glittering on the queen's face. Within two steps, Dove was at her side, her face still oddly unreadable. She gripped her niece's arms tightly as Cyne bit her lip. She deserved what was coming-

"Are you alright?" Dove asked lowly. Cyne nodded slightly, and her aunt's eyes narrowed. "What in _Chaos _you were thinking-"

Then the woman burst into tears and wrapped her arms tightly around Cyne as she cried. Cyne's lip trembled.

"Thank the Gods," Dove whispered in her ear. "Thank the Gods…."

Then a sob suddenly wracked Cyne's body, and she threw her arms around Dove as all the fear and worry that had bottled itself up inside her poured out, a storm in its own right, and the two Haiming Clan royals stood underneath the expansive, brilliant sky, crying without a care for any onlookers.

And a man with a peppered beard stood on the mainland, watching the aunt and niece, a smile on his face.

"I could almost shed a tear," he whispered to the crow on his shoulder.

Then he turned his back on the scene before him- the perfect painting of a grand ship and the brightly colored entourage- and mist gathered around him.

And when the wind blew the clouds away, he was gone.

A lone crow called out over the trees in triumph.

The Isles were safe once more.

* * *

_AN: And that's the end…_

_Sniff… brilliant place to end, doncha think?_

_Haha- jus' kidding. There is an epilogue. I'm terrible. I just can't finish, can I! _;P _Seriously, though, since it's called the epilogue, I can't add on anything else. Unless I do epilogue I, then epilogue II, then epilogue III- haha, not really. _

_Epilogue (I) and THEN it will be over. (cries)_

_Alas, all good things must come to an end. _


	28. Epilogue

_AN: Wow! It's over! And I am working furiously on the sequel (and my schoolwork. ;D) The prologue shall be up by next Friday, if I can get over to another comp. besides my own malfunctioning one, which refuses to create stories. Blah. _

_Thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed, including those who reviewed the final chapter. To **Lioness Queen**, **PrincessSolaria**, **cahawk**, **fairydust000**, **Lady Muck**, **Time and Fate**, **Heiress of Lohaust**, **Dream Ablaze**,** Ben **(wow! That was an amazing review! Thank so much! And I fixed that bit. Hope it's better. ;D), **sarralyn salmalin**, **Lady Whimsy**, **ultimatedramaqueen**, **wingsgirl1313**, and **Ginastar**; thanks, so much! You guys are awesome. _

_And yes, Kyrie, you should be very honored. ;D_

_And here it is; the final installment! (sniff...)_

_(10/23/07)- Thanks to everyone who had reviewed so far, and thank you, **Ben**, for all of the beta-type advice. You are certainly just in the right place. I wouldn't think of putting you anywhere else. ;D I hope the corrections are good. And yes, I think you hit the nail on the head- romance is not my strongest spot. _

* * *

_Epilogue_

"I do not want to be queen," Cyne said lowly, drawing strength from Brand and Merle, who stood behind her solidly. Between them, her aunt, Aly, Nawat, and Sibigat had related what had occurred in Rajmuat while the trio had been at sea. Merle had shuddered upon hearing her mother's close call. And then Aly had teased her, saying that- if Merle was to be spymaster- she would have to grow accustom to risking her neck. Besides, Merle had already given her mother too many gray hairs in the past few days. And now it was Aly's turn to return the favor.

And that was when Cyne had decided to reveal what had drove her into leaving the Isles. And now she was telling her aunt precisely what she had been dreading.

And her aunt had yet to blink.

"I think...," Aly said slowly, eyeing her friend. "That we will take our leave." Then, with a glare at Merle- who seemed to be inclined to stay- she managed to hustle the other five out of the room. When the door shut, it echoed across the small room. Cyne waited with bated breath, inspecting the lace on the queen's collar, as she did not quite dare to look her in the eye.

Dove watched her for a long moment, then sighed heavily.

"I could hardly force you, Cyne," she said wearily, sounding old. "And I am sorry, that I never told you. It was wrong of me, a poor judgment..." The look on Dove's face as she berated herself was suddenly too much for Cyne; she had to say something, anything to take that gloom away from her aunt-

"I think...," she said slowly, searching for something truthful to say. "That I just... freaked. It was not your fault I overheard..."

"But it _was _my fault that you did not know before," Dove argued. "Surely you would have been able to understand my reasoning, my wish for you to stay by me, if I had only told you-" Cyne had no way to disagree.

"Perhaps," she replied softly. "But if it hadn't happened..." She trailed off as awful thoughts filled her mind. If she had not gone...

The Isles would be controlled by Kypria, and both she and her aunt would certainly be dead by now. The thought was chillingly...

And yet also comforting.

"I suppose that it's a sign that someone up there likes us," she finally finished, looking up at the ceiling above them. A chuckle escaped Dove, and her niece snuck a glance at her.

"I am shocked that you are taking this so well," the woman laughed, then quieted, looking serious. "But, then again, I did not mind much, either."

"But I _don't _want to rule!" Cyne cried, trying to remain calm. "Or, at least-" Now, all her muddled thoughts rushed out, with no true order. "-I wanted to be who you believe I- I mean, it will be hard, and I can't go off on missions with my friends if I am the heir- and how am I supposed to just decide-" Dove watched her with alarm.

"I understand!" she quickly reassured her niece. "Gods, I was so foolish. I tried to raise you as a free spirit, with no knowledge of the fate I had planned..." She shook her head in amazement, marveling at her folly. "And I expected you to take this duty without a word. You were so much like me... and I believed you would love your role as a Haiming as much as I do."

"Then... you aren't mad?" Cyne asked, stunned. Her aunt looked at her with surprise.

"How could I be angry?" she asked, voice quiet. "You are my daughter, Cyne, in nearly every sense of the word. I love you, and I want you to be happy. Over anything else," she added. Cyne frowned.

"But... who would be your heir, if I refuse?" She was shocked to hear herself say _if_. She _knew _that it was the last thing in the world she could possibly want...

The thought scared her, though she hardly could guess why. Dove's lips twitched.

"I will find another," she replied simply. "I seem to have a talent for pulling such solutions out of thin air. Or so I have been told," she added dryly. Then a glimmer of a familiar, mischeivious smile crossed her face. "I have an idea. You know I have always wanted to celebrate your sixteenth birthday with a-" She laughed as Cyne shuddered. "-ball," she finished, then raised an eyebrow. "I had intended to use it to make the annoucement of your official instatement as my heir, if you had agreed."

"So you had been planning to tell me soon?"

"Of course." Dove's eyebrows rose even higher on her forehead. "I could scarcely attempt to instruct you in diplomacy and other matters without letting something slip."

"Is that why you began taking me away from those lessons with Merle and Brand?" Cyne wondered aloud. Grimly, Dove nodded.

"I did not want you taking part in their work," she elaborated. "And you needed to learn court manners, anyway, as my niece..." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, why don't you think about this until your birthday. Then, I can make the annoucement at the party..." She paused for a moment, then continued. "Or we could simply celebrate with a long, large, formal dance in which you shall have to act social and cordial." Cyne groaned, though she found she did not mind all too much.

"And I can talk to my friends? About this?" Dove did not bother trying to hide her smile this time.

"Certainly... and to a certain, handsome young mage, as well, if need be." Cyne's face fell slightly, and the girl knew Dove was too shrewd as to have missed it.

"I have not seen him since we left the ship," she admitted. "And I know he is finally here to study his craft, and that his work is hard, but- I have an odd feeling, like I will not see him for some time." Dove watched her closely.

"I am sure the two of you shall run into each other, once in awhile," she finally said.

"I guess," Cyne murmured. "Aunt Dove?"

"Yes?" Cyne hesitated; she wanted to make this short. She was not fond of sappy, long speeches.

"I love you. You are a mother to me. Perhaps the only one who has ever really cared for me," she mentioned, only a hint of bitterness in her voice. She held up a hand to stem Dove's protests. "Don't argue. You know my mother better than I do. You know what she can be like." Dove was silent, for which Cyne was grateful. "And thank you, for not trying to make me be you." She took a deep breath. "If I am to be queen, it will be because I want to be it, not because you are.

"You are one of the greatest queens of the Isles, and I doubt I could ever hope to follow you."

* * *

_A few months later..._

She stared into the mirror.

"It is not too extravagant?" she asked softly. In the reflection, she could see Dove smile slightly. Merle snorted.

"Gods, Cyne, this is all in your name. You couldn't be _too _fancy."

"I always thought such elegance was ridiculous," Dove chuckled softly. "But it grows on you."

"It certainly is amazing," Cyne murmured. She still had trouble believing she could look so lovely…. She looked as though she was twenty winters old, not only sixteen….

Her gown had elaborate, long, translucent sleeves that left her shoulders bare and flared out at the ends, the rest of the dress an elegant cream silk that hung to her figure and flowed to the floor like water. A silver, sparkling chain with the small bit of sea glass from Kyprioth hung around her neck, dipping into her low neckline. Silver eardrops dangled from her ears, and on her head was the thin, elegant circlet with the symbol of the royal house engraved on it.

She bit her lip, hoping it would not ruin the red face paint on her lips.

"I am ready." Merle hopped off of her perch on the desk.

"Good. Now I have to report to my rooms, where Mama dearest will force me into similar hideous skirts."

"Make certain the maid does not tighten your corset so that you cannot move," Cyne muttered, recalling her own troubles earlier. "I thought they would have to roll me into the Hall until you and Aunt showed up." Merle winked.

"No worries. But you had better claim your title, 'cause I ain't doing this again…." Cyne smiled slightly, but her face fell as Merle closed the door behind her. Dove watched her young niece.

"She would do it again. She was only teasing," the queen said softly, eyeing Cyne, who sighed.

"I know," she said softly. "But- could we wait? Do I have to make this choice now?" She turned to her aunt, eyes overbright in appeal. "I still do not know."

Dove was silent; Cyne still did not want to claim her title as heir, but had agreed to do so on the night of her sixteenth birthday. And recently, she had been having second thoughts.

"No," she said clearly. "Cyne, we shall wait until you are certain." She stared at Cyne until the girl looked up into her eyes. "This is your _choice_." She smiled gently. "I claimed my title…. Sarai had been forced to it. Do you see the difference?" Cyne nodded; she knew _well _that her mother would have been a disaster. And Dove-

Dove was perfect as a queen, with Lady Alianne and Lord Taybur Sibigat as her advisors.

And now she was intended to be named her successor in front of the Court, with Merle and Brand by her side. It was the only reason Merle had agreed to the hindrance of an awe-striking gown; Aly had sworn this was one of the few times she would have to do so.

The Court only knew it as a celebration of her sixteenth birthday; Dove had planned it to be a surprise, though many of the shrewder courtiers had probably already long guessed.

"I do not want it," she finally said firmly.

"Then I shall only announce your birthday," Dove replied easily, then swept off to the door. "But we are still going through with all the pomp," she declared regally. "And Cyne…?"

In the middle of reaching up to remove the circlet, the girl paused.

"Yes?" A mischievous smile made its way across Dove's face.

"Don't you dare take that off." Then she closed the door behind her, leaving Cyne to her thoughts.

* * *

As Cyne paced outside the doorway to the Grand Hall- only used for very large, very important ceremonies- she fiddled with a silver bracelet at her wrist anxiously. 

Merle watched her amusedly. She was dressed in a pale violet gown that flared out in the skirt and left her shoulders bare, her hair pulled up as elegantly as Cyne's. She wore no jewelry, save for a very fine, very thin gold chain that held her tiny, black crow feather. Both of her parents were already patrolling inside the hall, watching for any suspicious troublemakers. Brand had yet to appear….

"I can't do this," Cyne finally burst out, wringing her hands. "Gods, I can't! I have to present myself, walk down those stairs all by myself since I have no escort- I will probably trip and fall halfway down and humilate myself-" Merle coughed to hide a laugh.

"Cyne," she drawled. "The last time you fell down stairs, you were probably about two."

"Five," Cyne muttered rebellionously.

"My point exactly." The dark-haired girl went back to pacing.

"I cannot, I cannot- I will _die_-"

"And besides," Merle continued loudly. "You actually think that Dove would let you go without an escort?"

As those words penetrated Cyne's worrying, she stopped and opened her mouth but, before she could say anything, trumpeters blasted the arrival of the herald.

"Oh gods," she squealed, burying in her face in her hands. Merle rushed forwards.

"Don't you dare," she hissed. "You'll muss your face paint!"

"Announcing Her Majesty, Queen Dovasary Haiming Temaida Balitang, and her consort, Lord Sileon Jukiran Farah Versith!" the pompous, obnoxious man bellowed. There was a polite smattering of applause heard by the girls as Dove and her husband emerged on the staircase opposite them. Cyne gripped Merle's elbow, and the redhead grimaced.

"For the poor crow's sake," a low voice said amusedly. "Let her go, Cyne. After all, you ought to be holding my arm, anyways."

Cyne froze, then turned slowly to see Damek. She stared at him, aghast.

He wore dark blue silk, with a simple, pale blue trim. Around his neck was a silver pendant that Cyne knew as an insignia of an apprentice court mage. His features were sharp, his eyes a smoldering dark as he stared into her eyes. Cyne suddenly found it hard to breathe.

She had not seen him in over four- five?- months! He was as handsome as ever, tall and dark. He bowed.

"Surely Dove told you I would bring you in?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Or did you imagine entering alone?" Cyne could not answer; she was poleaxed, by a mixture of feelings and thoughts.

She felt nervous, seeing him….

And yet she felt at ease, reassured… now that he was there. The doors to the hall creaked open.

"Announcing Lady Cyne Temaida Balitang Hetnim and Lord Damek Farivan!" came the loud call. Instantly, Damek swept up to her side and grabbed her arm, pulling him with her and onto the top of the staircase before she realized what was happening.

Instantly, Cyne panicked, freezing as she became uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on her.

"Don't gape like a fool," Damek muttered in a friendly voice. "Don't even smile, if you you don't think you can do that. But _don't gape_. Think of Dove, and how boring this will be. No one will pay the slightest attention to you- gods, look at Lord Tajang in that outfit. He looks like a peacock." A smile tugged at her lips. "He should definitely stick to darker colors, otherwise everyone will know him as the birdbrain he is-"

With Damek's encouraging, quick murmurs, she scarcely noticed when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and she had an easy smile on her lips. By the time they reached Dove and Sileon, she could almost completely ignore the obvious stares of the hundred of people standing in the room.

"Well done," Dove said softly, giving her a quick smile before she straightened and strode towards the dais in the middle of the room. She would stand on this instead of sitting on a throne. Soon enough, she would mingle with the rest of the nobles, but she would have to stand for the ceremonial beginnings which, thankfully, were to be short. Since the celebration was in honor of Cyne, only her closest friends- meaning Brand and Merle- would have to enter through the grand entrance doors. Any other time, and Dove would have to allow almost all of the powerful nobles of the Isles to enter through them as a sign of prestige.

Political hindrances. How troublesome they were.

But- on second thought- Cyne knew she would not mind them….

_If _she ever had to deal with them, of course….

"Lady Merle Crow," the herald called, and Merle floated down the stairs easily. However, when she locked eyes with Cyne, she shook her head, almost imperceivably. When she reached the floor, she jerked her head up to the doors and shook her head again. Cyne frowned, then crossed her fingers. She hoped that Brand had arrived….

According to Merle, he had not been up there when she had left the small room….

Gods, that was the _last _thing she needed….

She felt faint, and clung to Damek's arm tightly. He frowned, then moved his arm so that he would be able to catch her if she fell. He had no idea why she would act like this-

"Lord Brand Sibigat," the man finally called. Cyne stared at the door-

Gods, this was just like him… she was going to _kill _him when she got her hands on him-!

And then Brand strolled through, a casual, cocky grin on his face. Cyne breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing, though she still scowled when he winked at her, halfway down the stairs.

"Obnoxious little-" she muttered, and Damek looked at her with surprise.

"You are not falling head over heels in love with him, then?" he asked archly. "I see that the rest of the females in here seem to be…." Cyne snorted delicately at the thought of it.

"Hmph! That braggart? I can scarcely believe I call him a friend-" Then she glanced at the Court ladies ogling him, and a dry smile twitched at her lips.

Certainly he looked handsomer than usual, dressed in royal blue-

"With his hair combed, he almost looks presentable," she admitted quietly. "His mother probably made him do it." Damek looked at her with surprise, then chuckled. Cyne was acutely aware of his chest moving up and down as he laughed; she stepped slightly away, though not too far.

She glanced over at Merle; the redhead had the oddest look on her face as she watched their friend stride over. Then she looked quickly away as he approached them. Cyne noted that Merle had put on rogue that she had not noticed in the dimly lit chamber; her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink.

"You look quite the lady," Brand said, grinning as he bowed exaggeratedly towards Merle, who made a face at him. "And there's the savage that I know." She glared at him murderously, and he held his hands up, as if to wave off an attack.

"Behave," Cyne muttered, amused. "You are being watched."

"Mostly by the young ladies, of course," Brand snickered, looking at a nearby group with a dazzling smile, who instantly began twittering to each other. "I say, though, I believe I have tormented Lady Elaine with my unknown identity long enough…. She must be glad, to be certain that she is falling for a young lord and not a cook…." Merle rolled her eyes, irritated.

"Then you must be sure to make certain that she never meets us, for otherwise we will reveal your numerous, miserable faults to her-" Brand grinned mischeviously, jerking his head over to the gaggle of young women who he had spent the day with after Cyne had been attacked at the formal party.

"Look at this," he said, voice gleeful. "It's those silly daisies who keep on giving you ugly looks, Merle..." His grin grew even wider. "Want to _really_ shock them?" The redhead eyed him warily.

"It depends..."

"Trust me," Brand assured, a smirk dancing along his lips. Then, as too swift for Cyne to catch, he leaned over and pecked Merle's cheek very gently with his lips. A smile growing across her face, Cyne glanced over at the scandilized ladies staring at them. A small laugh escaped her lips as their daggered glares darkened. Then she turned her attention back to her friends at an exclamation from Brand. He leapt behind Damek as a scowling, red-faced Merle headed for him. "I didn't even touch your cheek!" he yelped, dancing behind the other tall, bemused young man. "It was friendly, and I didn't touch- you didn't even feel it, right?!"

"Brand Sibigat, if you _dare_ do that again," Merle threatened dangerously. "I'll tear you to-"

"Ahem." Immediately, the group of young nobles fell silent, turning towards Dove, as the rest of the Court did. Dove rewarded the room with a small smile. "Thank you….

"Tonight we are here to celebrate the birthday of my niece, who has lived here in the palace for almost four years now." Her voice echoed through her room; Cyne marveled at how her aunt could project her usually quiet voice. "She-"

Then, a realization struck Cyne, hard and sudden, as she watched her aunt.

She had always admired her aunt, had always wanted to know how the woman did everything…

…including rule the Isles. She had always asked Dove, had always wanted to learn-

She had never specifically _thought_ about ruling herself, but she had always wanted to know what to do, how to act-

Her mind flickered back to events of several months ago….

Had she not persevered to protect the Isles, to keep them safe?

Did she not love them as fiercely as she did her family and friends?

Would she not give anything to serve them…?

And ruling them would be the ultimate service. Dove had always impressed it upon her, even before Cyne had known she was intended to be the heir….

It struck her then, what precisely had always made her shy away from the idea….

She _wanted _to rule them, to give her heart and soul to the Isles.

But she was scared that she could not, that she could _never _measure up to her aunt. That she would have to-someday- reign without guidance, without her aunt's advice. That she would fail.

_You fear failing…. _

She had.

She _had _feared it.

But now she realized; she _could _rule.

She had wanted to- had been able to- for some time now.

And- even when she had a rough time of it-she would have others, like Brand and Merle, there for her.

All that had stood in her way from claiming her rightful place had been a fear of disappointing the land she loved so dearly.

But now she knew; she could do it. She did not have to fail.

Her eyes snapped to Dove, who had chanced a glance at her. As brown met blue-green, Cyne looked her aunt straight in the eye, and nodded once. Firmly.

Dove's eyebrows rose of their own accord, as if asking, _are you certain? _She nodded once again.

"Are you sure?" Dove murmured aloud, watching her niece with scrutinizing eyes. Taking in a steady breath as whispers flurried about, Cyne nodded once, then slid away from Damek and towards her aunt.

Slowly.

One step at a time.

There were more whispers, more flurries of motion around her, but she did not notice.

She walked to the dais, and looked at it for a long moment.

It was called Kyprioth's Diamond, for the shape it made in the floor. Only the queens of the Isles and their heirs were allowed to stand upon it. Rarely was anyone else allowed to even touch it….

She looked into her aunt's eyes for one more long moment; the corners of Dove's mouth twitched.

Then Cyne Temaida Balitang Hetnim stepped onto the first stair of the dais.

There was a louder burst of noise as she took another step, then another…

Until she was at Dove's side. Dove watched her niece, her eyes sparkling and her lips smiling, and then turned to the surprised crowd.

"My heir to the throne stands before you now." Her voice rose above the noise, to the very rafters of the chamber, though it was little above a murmur. "Cyne Haiming Temaida Balitang Hetnim," she said softly. "These are your people, those you shall serve from this day to the day you die.

"Let the Gods bless you and this night!"

Then, the clapping began. Cyne looked up, startled to meet the usual stern eyes of Lord Hanimar Tajang as he applauded. His surly friends of the nobility were not very far behind him. The girl could see both Aly and Nawat, Taybur and Vereyu, clapping as many others joined in. There were several cheers from the younger noblemen, Brand chief among them. Merle was grinning, ear to ear, and Damek smiling faintly.

When she locked eyes with his deep brown, Cyne felt her heart speed up.

Then she turned to the assembly before her and curtsied lowly, unable to express herself in any other way.

And a laugh escaped her as more cheers broke out at her humility.

* * *

Several hours later, when she had greeted most of the higher nobility, who were now eager for her opinion as Princess of the Copper Isle, Cyne sat next to the prickly Lord Tajang, who awarded her a dry smile. 

"Come to escape the vultures?" he asked. "Court is a terrible place, particularly for an old man with health such as mine…." Cyne smiled.

"My lord, I believe you to be in the best shape possible for someone of your wisdom and experience…." As he chuckled at her flattery, he shot a glare at several noblewomen whom Cyne had been attempting to avoid. Cyne's regard for the old man heightened as they sulked away.

"I wish I could do that," she sighed. The man watched her shrewdly.

"You never will be able to again. You will have to be a proper young lady now." Cyne's polite smile twitched slightly, melting into a warm one.

"Not necessarily, my lord. I shall duck into my studies at every turn, and be called boring and bookish and certainly not one to keep company, royal or no." She exhaled slowly, sinking slightly into the cushioned bench. "I am as royal as I was before…."

"Ah, but now you acknowledge it," Tajang pointed out. "And that makes all the difference."

"True-" Her train of thought stopped as Damek slid through the crowd, looking about. When he locked eyes with her, he strode towards them. She tensed as butterflies stirred in her stomach.

"I can send him away. He listens to me, if only barely…."

Was Tajang teasing her? He had a very knowing look on his face-

When Damek reached them, he bowed, then held out her hand.

"Would you accompany me, Your Highness?" he asked politely. "Your aunt has told me that I should escort you outside for some fresh air. Alone," he added, loud enough for several more courtiers to stop in their tracks and sidle off. If the queen wanted her heir to be left alone, then so be it.

As Cyne took his hand and rose, feeling oddly formal, they strolled out into the gardens off of the hall, into the maze, where they could lose any more nobles wishing to curry favor.

"Both I and your aunt felt that you could leave for a little time," he said, voice oddly detached. It left Cyne feeling hollow. What had happened- "After all, Your Highness-"

"You don't have to do that," she muttered. "My name is Cyne." She stopped suddenly; Damek turned to look at her, his arm still linked in hers.

"I know that," he said quietly. She stared into his eyes for the longest moment. Then, he leaned towards her. Her insides melted; she feared she might fall.

Trembling, she kept her gaze locked with his as he inclined his head, stopping only a few, scant inches away... Cyne could feel his breath on her lips, a feathering caress that halted every thought whipping about in her mind. He wavered there, his nose skimming hers-

Then he looked away, released her arm, and walked a few paces away. Sensing his need for distance, Cyne did not move.She doubted she could have, even if she had wanted. Something within her felt cold... hollow... numb.

Damek watched her silently for the longest moment from there.

"I need to ask you for forgiveness," he said lowly, turning away. "I am sorry." Cyne frowned.

"What do you have to apologize for?" she asked softly.

"Cyne…." He swallowed heavily, then looked back into her eyes and took a step forwards. Cyne's breath caught; she watched, still, as he sighed. "Gods, I-

"I'm scared." He stopped, torn between a decision. Cyne waited, bated breath. "Cyne, I know I care for you-"

Her heart sped up as he stared into her eyes; there was a gentleness there she had never seen before.

"But I'm scared." He paused, then added recklessly. "Of you. Dammit, I'm scared of you."

Cyne felt as if someone had punched her on the stomach; she could not form any words, but Damek saw the look in her eyes, and his eyes instantly turned pleading.

"Cyne, there is no reason," he said quickly, a soft pain in his voice. "I just-" He sighed frustratedly, then ran his hand through his hair. He looked at her again, and reached halfway up to her face, though he stopped in midair. "You look beautiful tonight," he said softly, then colored as he hastily added, "Not that you don't, ever. Look beautiful, I mean." A small smile formed on her lips, and she found the courage to answer his confession.

"There's no reason to be scared of me," she whispered, taking his outstretched hand in hers and running her fingers over it. Damek looked down; taking hold of her fingers, he rubbed her skin with his thumb. The touch sent hot shivers through her. When she looked into his eyes, they were guarded, but burning with some great emotion that left her unable to speak. They gentled, slightly.

"I know, Cyne," he said softly. "Whenever I see you- everything else falls away and-" Then, his earnest gaze darkened, and he pulled away just enough so that Cyne could think coherently again. He ran his hand through his hair, expression vexed. "I-I think- I mean, I have been trying to research it...

"It- it has something to do with my Gift, I believe." She frowned faintly, as a memory resurfaced in her mind; of her father's apprentice, the kind young man who had led her about Jiekai, paling and trying to tell her father something-

"Your Gift?" she asked softly, memories whirling about in her mind.

"It- tells me that there is something… _different_ about you," he admitted. "It... _recoils_ from you. Your Gift. Almost-" He bit his lip, then plunged on. "Almost like a warning." The words rang in the silence.

"There is no need for a warning."

"I know." Suddenly frustrated, Cyne looked up into his eyes and stepped forwards.

"Then why are you telling me this?" she asked, a hint of pain shading her voice. "Damek, why don't you just-" She stopped there, unwilling to continue, to dare assume to speak her words. A fierce light- one even stronger than the heavy gaze he had given her a moment before- entered his eyes. But she did not say anything else. Though she recalled his kiss with perfect clarity, she could not know what he thought of her. She could not-

"Why don't I just tell you that I love you and have done with it?" he asked, voice oddly toneless. Startled by his bluntness, she blinked once, then looked down. She started at his touch; his gentle hand lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. He was only a few inches away…. "Because I don't know," he said lowly, voice ragged. "And I do not know how to figure out."

Cyne stared into his eyes for a long moment, trying to understand, trying to figure it out herself.

Then she smiled softly.

"I do not, either," she answered, then leaned her head forwards. "But there might be ways to work that out…." She trembled; this close to Damek, she could barely think- her thoughts were scattered-

Though she closed the distance, she hovered by his lips, almost touching them, but not daring to close that final bit of space-

Damek finally did.

When his lips touched hers, her heart thudded heavily, and her mind spun with his scent. After a moment, he pulled back, smiling softly.

"Perhaps," he said gently, inclining his head to touch her nose with his. "Perhaps…." Then he backed away, keeping her hand in his, and bowed. "And now, my lady, you should go back to the celebration. They will be missing you."

"What about you?" Cyne asked quietly, and he shook his head, though his hold on her fingers tightened reassuringly for a moment.

"I need to think," he said, then jerked his head towards the palace. "Good night, Cyne."

"Good night," she said, voice soft. Then she turned and strode back towards the Grand Hall, a smile tugging on her lips.

* * *

"And so I told him that he was drunk, and he most assuredly insisted me he was not-" Dove's eyes twinkled as Cyne and the rest of her audience laughed. "And now you know that there should be no drinks served at advisory meetings. Particularly not when the merchants of trade are involved." 

Cyne's chuckles were halted with an interruption from a fast-moving Merle, who instantly grabbed her friend with more force than Cyne deemed necessary and dragged her off a few paces. Annoyed, she looked at her comrade, and then frowned. Merle's dark eyes were horrified, her hands twisting a hankerchief anxiously.

"What is it?" Cyne asked, worried for her friend, who was looking very pale. Merle reached out and clutched Cyne's arm tightly. The brunette winced, but let Merle cling to her.

"Don't say anything after I tell you this," Merle whispered, lips frozen. "-to _anyone_." Cyne frowned. "Goddess, I feel ill-"

"Do you need a healer, Merle? You were all right a few moments ago-" Then she thought of something else and glared at her friend disapprovingly. "Did your maid tighten your corset too much? I _told _you to make sure she-"

"No," she said softly. "It isn't that… Gods, this is terrible. A catastrophe." Her eyes scanned the crowd before them. "This is the end… how could this have _possibly _happened?"

"Do you need some fresh air?" Cyne could not imagine what had wrought this upon the sturdy, bouncy redhead.

"It's Brand…." Alarm spread through Cyne faster than she would have thought possible.

"Great Gods, what now? Kyprioth hasn't delivered his promise yet, has he? I thought he wouldn't for-"

"No, Brand is fine," Merle mumbled. "I just saw him, like you did- It's me… but this is _not _good, this is _anything _but good, gods help me-" Impatience was finally catching up with Cyne. She scowled at her friend despite her concern.

"Then what on earth is wrong with you?" she hissed.

"Cyne…" Merle turned to her dark-haired friend, her face stricken. "I think I love him."

Cyne stared at her friend for a very long moment as the sentence penetrated her concern. She was silent for a moment, then two-

Then, she burst into laughter. Merle looked at her, shocked, as tears of mirth poured down the other girl's face.

"Gods," Cyne choked out between laughs. "I-'" Then the giggles conquered her again, and she could only gasp for breath as those around her stared in alarm.

One thing was for certain; with friends like hers, heir to the throne or not, she would _never _be bored.

* * *

_AN: And... that's all she wrote. Haha. For now._

_I shall be writing a few one and twoshots for setting the scene in Tortall. I can't just jump into the next long story; that would drive both me and all of you lovely readers nuts._

_And here is your LAST, EXCLUSIVE chance to review this! Any thoughts? Likes, dislikes? Stuff that would help me cater to your loves and likes? Any confusing bits?_

_And thanks to all those who have reviewed. You guys are amazing._

_And now I have to go and change the status of this to complete. (sniffs)_

_This will include A Son, A Green Thumb, You Want to- WHAT?!, and others unwritten as of now. A Green Thumb is the only one up right now. Bear with me. ;D_

_11/13/07- Hey! Sequel is up, with a prologue and two chappies already! It's more of an accompaniment than a sequel... Come and REVIEW!!!_


	29. Time's Up

_Time's Up_

_March 12, 282 H.E._

Chanting…. War drums sounded, in the distance.

Dark shapes raced past her; before she could turn to see what they were, she was plunged into icy water. Panic rose up instinctively, but she pushed the feeling away. She had no reason to fear; she was ruler of this coldness, queen of the waves that tumbled and roared across her domain-

And yet she could not breathe; the water refused to part for her-

And the shadows were getting closer, ever closer- always a step ahead of her, but no matter which way she floundered in the silence, they eluded her gaze.

There were drums, pounding in her ears; a shout of defiance, answered by another-

Two armies.

Neither would back down.

But one of them must, one of them had to-

The storm of darkness closed in on her; she opened her mouth to gasp, but the black water choked her. There was nothing, nothing- Oblivion-

Struggling against the dark, she caught a glimpse of light and surged towards it, up to the surface-

Something grabbed her, yanked her back down into the murky depths, but she turned on it, hands outstretched. A flash of blue light shot from her fingers, and she was free, free to swim upwards and-

Cyne Hetnim opened her eyes; a beam of moonlight streamed in through her open balcony doors to play across her bleary vision. She frowned, sitting up in a tangle of blankets. It was still chilly at night…. Too cold for an open window.

In fact, she knew she had closed it before she had fallen asleep.

Her brilliant blue-green eyes flickered sharply across her room; nothing was disturbed. Warily, she shifted, then swung her legs over the side of her bed and slid to the floor, waiting for the slightest flicker of motion to give an intruder away.

There were many who would like to kill the heir to the Kyprian throne.

Her cold fingers wrapped around the sea glass she wore on a pendant around her neck, she waited, ready to throw up a magical shield if there was need. Quietly, she crept towards the open door, watching as the curtains billowed in the night breeze; there was a dim light in the darkness that was a telltale harbinger of the day.

"Cyne Hetnim." The girl leapt into the air, alarmed, as a figure stepped out into her vision, out on the balcony. Magic shot from her hand, but it flew right by the man waiting for her. He chuckled. "Is that really any way for an heir to answer the patron god of her land?"

Cyne did not reply; her voice was caught in her throat as Kyprioth, God of the Copper Isles, pushed open the doors and let himself in.

"Beautiful morning," he commented, gesturing out to the skies. "North wind's a-blowing," he added as an afterthought, then chuckled. "As it never does." He sighed, shaking his head as he looked down, as his bare feet. His brightly-colored sarong shifted in the gentle zephyr. Then he looked up sharply, meeting Cyne's uncertain gaze. She flinched at its suddenness, but held the stare as the god's eyes shimmered, burning with divine intensity as he scrutinized her. "Time's up," he said abruptly, then disappeared, as suddenly as he had come, leaving Cyne to stare out over the city, harbor, and night beyond.

She blinked, waiting silently as the realization set in; adrenaline coursed through her veins.

_Within a year's time… you shall be hearing from me or one of my illustrious siblings. _A soft sigh escaped her; she bit her lip, then looked up at the moon, gleaming benevolently down upon the islands. A year. A year of peace. A year since she vanquished Kypria, Panther of the Night.

Dawn was breaking.

"What now?" she whispered.

* * *

**AN: The story of Cyne and company- along with others- is continued in The Two Islands.**


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